Come In Out of the Darkness
by RosamundPikes
Summary: When a borrower witch sets a curse on Dean Winchester, it appears that he has finally met his true end; that is, until Crowley reveals a way to save him. With the help of a highly unlikely figure, Sam and Cas must save Dean from the grasp of death. Along the way, the figure develops feelings for Dean of their own... [Takes place during Season 9 of SPN & after the events of Coven]
1. A Paralyzed Soul

There were monsters out there that lived on violence and fear. Some monsters were so terrifyingly sinister that facing them was a nightmare in itself. No hunter ever looked forward to encountering monsters like these, but for the time being, Dean had really had enough of dealing with these bitches- er... _witches_. Same difference.

Today's witch was significantly getting under the skin of the Winchester brothers and the heavenly soldier who accompanied them. Being born and raised in violence was hardly a key player in the reasons behind Greta Mason's exceptionally horrid nature. While nothing she said ever seemed to make a lot of logical sense, her demeanor was clearly defined by her inflated self image and her unquenchable aspiration for power. Of course, one didn't have to back themselves with intelligence and caution when their capabilities were strong enough to give them what they wanted with the help of a mere tantrum. Lack of intelligence could sometimes lead the power hungry to testing their strength on the living. In the case of Greta, the innocent lives she had taken did nothing to help her. In fact, it only hurt her once her bad deeds were looked into by the Winchesters. But in her eyes, they were just more "inferiors" for her to unleash her reckless power on.

Perhaps she wasn't disparate from other stupid humans whom the two brothers had faced. What made her different was her connections. Greta was a Borrower, but her powers didn't come from any everyday demon. No, the source of her power took on a far more malicious route, and one look at her polished red nails could hint that power wasn't the only thing she had received from this demon. Why Abaddon would ever want to supply a witch, especially one who wasn't very bright, with power was a mystery. Perhaps another soul was useful to her. But that didn't matter. What Greta was capable of had proven to truly be a hazard, and she needed to be taken care of immediately before things went out of hand.

Dean stood his ground, watching the cackling woman as she began to confront Castiel. Fortunately, he hadn't been subjected to the witch's brute force just yet. The same couldn't be said for poor, unconscious Sam, who had been telekinetically hurled into a wall, where he hit his head in just the right place to knock him out for a few moments. Greta could've finished him off, but it seemed the angel was more appealing to her. After all, taking down an angel would be the ultimate test; a test she was more than willing to take. Shockingly, it seemed that she had managed to bind Cas in some odd dark spell that Dean had never seen before. She was confining him so she could deliver the final blows without receiving any harm herself. Upon closer observation, it appeared that she had to keep the spell going manually. Any distractions would result in Cas being set free. Thinking fast, Dean, whose gun had been smashed to smithereens by the bitch, charged her with a blade, aiming directly where her heart would be.

Upon hearing his footsteps, however, the witch's eyes darted behind her and Dean was lifted off his feet. He dropped to the ground with a loud _thud_. He caught a glimpse of the angel doubling over and gathering his wits when his body suddenly stiffened up against his control. She wasn't stopping there. One look on her face was enough to tell that she was _not_ happy. Dean slid across the floor, hitting into the wall behind him. Instead of leaving him there and returning to Cas, however, she quickly approached him. She bent down to pick up the knife that he had dropped and, with a disapproving glance in the man's direction, she allowed the blade to cut along her own palm. She opened her other hand below the wound and allowed her own blood to drip into it.

Dean let out a disgusted groan. "Just curious, do any of you witches, like, _not_ get off on mutilating yourselves and letting your body fluids pour on everything?"

"Shut up you pathetic pretty man!" Greta screeched, beginning to focus on the blood in her hand, which suddenly began to turn into an inky black color, almost like the blood of a Leviathan. "You know, I've really had it with **you** most of all! You and your stupid sarcastic comments are really getting in the way of things!"

Dean retorted by mumbling something under his breath about quivering in his boots.

Enraged, Greta suddenly clasped her hands together. An ominous black shroud appeared as she quickly recited something in a cryptic language Dean had never heard of before. Before he could react, the witch opened her hands, and a horrifying hex flew straight for him. Dean tried to throw himself out of the way, but it was too late. Everything suddenly went dark. The spell nailed him directly in the head, causing his body to crumple to the floor, seemingly unconscious.

Greta smirked in utter satisfaction as she taunted the elder Winchester brother. However, her heckles were suddenly cut short when a hand, none too gently, whisked her around. The last thing she saw was the furious face of Castiel as he placed two fingers on her forehead before a blinding light illuminated the room. An ear piercing scream escaped the woman's mouth as her eyes were completely burnt out. She felt as if her very soul were being ignited, but soon all she could see was the same void of darkness Dean had been subjected to. The lifeless husk of Greta's body collapsed in a heap on the floor. If anything, such a quick and simple end seemed to be rather fitting for the power thirsty narcissist.

With this obstacle out of the way, Castiel shifted his focus towards his friend's motionless body. She couldn't have... Cas bent down over Dean's body, a truly worried look in his eyes. Dean wasn't breathing. His heart wasn't beating. Cas put the same two fingers that had taken Greta's life to Dean's forehead. Nothing. Dean was gone, and Cas couldn't revive him this time.

"...Hey, what happened?" The sound of Sam's voiced echoed throughout the warehouse. The confused tone quickly morphed into one of horror and distress when the younger of the Winchesters noticed the scene taking place on the other side of the room. "D... **DEAN**!" Leaping to his feet, Sam scrambled in the direction of the other two. He knelt beside Cas, lifting his brother's limp body into his arms. He shook, and he shook, and he shook, almost as though if he shook Dean hard enough, he'd yank his brother free from the grip of death. Obviously, incessant shaking wasn't going to get him anywhere, and after a while, Castiel enjoined him to knock it off.

"How... How did this happen?" Sam looked to Cas in utter shock. "What is this? What the hell did she do to him?"

What felt like an extensive pause followed Sam's inquiries. The dead silence that resulted whenever one of them wouldn't speak did little to help the specter of horror that both of them were feeling.

"I should've seen this coming..." Castiel finally responded grimly. "He isn't alive, but his soul is still present. It seems to be trapped within his dead corpse, and there isn't any way for it to escape. His spirit will remain in the same place while his body decomposes, and that means an eternal world of insanity awaits him..." His expression grew increasingly somber. "It's as if some sort of paralysis affected his soul when his body underwent rigor mortis. This is bad. Very bad."

"Trapped inside..." Sam began to absorb everything Cas had explained to him. "But... that means he didn't pass on, right?" Sam said, desperately running on anything he could use to evade the feeling of hopelessness. "We could still revive him, can't we? It has to be possible!"

"I have already tried that. I don't think angels can do such a thing, Sam. This is an extremely powerful and complex spell. If anything, it's presumably very difficult to reverse; that is, if it even is reversible in the first place."

"Don't say that!" Sam snapped, presenting Cas with a despairing snarl. "There's a solution to everything, and you know we can't just leave him like this!"

"And, since it is you who we are discussing, I don't suppose that would be an option now, would it be?"

Sam grunted in annoyance. Neither of them even needed to turn around to see who had spontaneously materialized behind them. "Crowley... Now is not the time!"

"Oh, but Moose, indeed it is the time..." The King of Hell nonchalantly sauntered to the spot where Dean lied cold and inert. Crowley bent over, resting a hand over Dean's forehead for a few moments. "Seems like our friend Squirrel over here has bit the dust for real this time. Nothing would make more sense than to give our condolences and provide the good man with a proper burial." He made a face of false pity, reaping his satisfaction from the glowers of apparent hatred that Sam and Cas both presented him with. "But, since we can never have the easy way out, I guess I should inform you with good news: as a matter of fact, there is a way to bring our favorite Squirrel back from his little predicament, but the task is far from easy."

"Dammit, Crowley, would you just tell us what to do already?!" Sam was quickly losing patience. It truly irritated him how laid-back Crowley was during times like this. It wasn't surprising in the least, but it was bothersome nonetheless.

"Goodness, Sam, haven't you heard of being polite?" He scoffed a little before continuing. "As I was saying, the only way to bring Dean back is to find someone of the same species as the one who set the curse who would be able to break it."

"That would be another human..." Castiel interjected. "A witch, to be exact."

"Precisely," Crowley confirmed. "But not just any old witch, this witch has to have a true gift; she must have been gifted at birth with the power of resurgence. A very rare gift."

"Alright..." Sam nodded, thinking everything over a few times in his mind. "So... Where do we find a witch like that?"

"Well, Moose, that brings about some bad news and some good news... well, semi-good news..." Crowley burrowed his hands into the pockets of his coat. "The bad news is that almost every single witch with such a gift is dead and has been dead for a long time. The good news is that it is possible to find an exceptionally powerful one in a chamber deep within the kingdom of Hell. However, someone, I'm talking about you, love," Crowley pointed to Cas, "has to be able to go down to her section of Hell and pull her out. Only angels can do such a thing, but of course, not without this incantation..." Crowley tapped two fingers to Castiel's forehead, adding a bizarre ritual and sequence of words to his memory banks. "Wonderful. Now that you have all you need, I must be going. I've got quite a few things to take care of. Good luck and all that nonsense."

"Wait, but who is this witch we're supposed to fi-" Crowley disappeared before Sam had a chance to finish. He sighed in frustration, prepared to have a quick exchange with Cas when he noticed that the angel seemed to be focused on something.

"Get in the car. Put Dean's body in the backseat," Castiel said flatly with no explanation whatsoever, much to the confusion of Sam.

"Cas, what's going on? What are you planning to-"

"There's no time now, Sam. Go get the car-"

"Cas, could you at least tell me where you want to go?"

Castiel looked down for a few moments before focusing his gaze on Sam. Taking a deep breath, he responded,

"We're going to New Orleans."


	2. Misty

"So, again, how exactly is this supposed to work out?" Castiel had probably explained everything three times now, but Sam didn't care. He needed a distraction, and music alone wasn't going to help very much. After all, driving his brother's cherished Impala, which seemed to be the guy's only true love, with said brother dead in the back seat wasn't exactly the recipe for a calm Sunday drive. At least Cas didn't seem to be bothered by repeating himself. If anything, he was probably confused as to why Sam wasn't hearing or comprehending him correctly.

"Like I've been saying, this place is a widely known facility among witches. Apparently, a very powerful one runs the place." He had lowered the volume on the radio, as if the thing had been drowning out his words. "Now, I've picked up a few sources that say she must know something about this gifted witch. If that's the case, then maybe she can tell us where we can find the ashes." He shifted in the seat a little. "I need the ashes in order to bring this witch back."

"Okay, and why can't you just go track her ashes down?" Sam asked with a voice infiltrated by growing anxiety. "Wouldn't that be a lot faster? Couldn't we just get this over with and be done if we did that?"

"Sam, you need to remember that you and your brother are hunters." Cas threw a serious glance in Sam's direction. "You and I both know that that means you hunt witches. That's what got us into this dilemma in the first place." He looked to the backseat for a moment, frowning at the motionless body that lay there. "Do you really think that a witch would do such a favor for someone who murders her brethren? What's not to say we may just kill her after she's finished?"

Sam really couldn't deny any of this. After all, who's to say she'd trust _anyone_ after what she had been through? "Okay, I get that, but do you really think that putting a bunch of hunters in the middle of a coven would be any better? I mean you said it yourself! If this place is a trending area for witches, then you can bet that there will be a good number of them there. What will they think when a bunch of hunters come in and ask for favors?"

"Then we'll just have to reason with them." He interrupted Sam before the hunter could bring up something else. "You'll have to trust me on this if you want your brother back." An interval of silence flew by before Sam nodded in agreement and returned his focus to the road. Another question followed shortly after. "One more thing... You're an angel. Why can't you just fly is to the place?" A smirk from Cas was all he needed to realize how stupid he sounded. Dean would kill them if they left the car behind...

...

When the Impala finally came to a stop, Sam was almost surprised when the large building they reached wasn't even remotely similar in appearance to Hogwarts. Instead, a white, 18th century style building stood proudly before them. Even from the outside, the place had a sort of aura of its own. Sam could practically feel the power of the women who inhabited the facility emanating from its walls. Sam and Castiel exited the car and made their way to the gate. Sam took a look at one of the plaques. Neatly engraved there was the building's moniker:

 ** _Miss ROBICHAUX'S ACADEMY_**

 ** _for exceptional young ladies_**

Sam and Castiel exchanged a glance before the large gates creaked open. They ambled down the cobblestone path to the building's grand front door. A classic few notes played as Sam rang the doorbell. After a few moments, a handsome young man in a tuxedo answered them, swinging the door open to look over the pair. "Can I help you?"

"Hello, my name is uhh..." Sam's initial reaction was to make up some sort of false alias, but he was about to enter a school specifically for witches. He didn't need to worry about them knowing his name; that is, if they didn't know it already. His and Dean's names seemed to have a way of spreading around. "I'm Sam, and... this is my friend, Cas." Cas raised his hand for a moment and uttered a straightforward "hi."

The blond man responded with, "Kyle," and said nothing else, creating a momentary awkward silence. Sam continued, "We, uhh... We would like to meet with whoever is in charge here, if that's alright."

"Sure thing, please come in." The man opened the door wider, allowing Sam and Castiel to enter. He let it swing shut behind them. "Right this way." Without another word, the duo was led through the building to a flight of stairs.

It was even more elegant on the inside. As they passed a few pristine rooms, Sam spied a decent number of young women in each room, all of whom seemed to be having a great time. Most of them were using their powers to fool around with each other and such. It was practically shocking. Sam had grown accustomed to witches being ruthless, unpredictable, and generally unpleasant people to be around. Seeing them so carefree and enthusiastic was alien.

Kyle led the two through a few long hallways until they stopped at a room that was technically an office, but was far too refined to be labelled as one. He pulled up two chairs in front of a desk so Sam and Cas could sit. "The Supreme will meet with you in a few seconds." With a genteel nod, the butler exited, leaving the duo to their own devices. Sam looked ahead in awe. The Supreme... What a title that was.

It didn't take long before a rather attractive woman entered the room. She looked to be around Dean's age, with gentle features, tasteful blonde hair, and a well-mannered grin. "Welcome, gentleman, it's a pleasure to meet you. My name is Cordelia Goode. I am the Supreme, as you may have figured out by now." She gave their hands a polite shake and sat down before them. After the two introduced themselves to her, Cordelia asked the anticipated question: "So, what brings you two here?"

Sam fidgeted a little in his seat. "Well, Ms Goode-"

"Please do call me Cordelia."

"Right... _Cordelia_ , I think before we start, you should know that... umm... I'm a hunter..."

Cordelia didn't seem to understand what this had to do with anything, but before Sam had a chance to explain, the morphing look on her face—warm and welcoming to anxious and defensive—was enough to suggest that she had already figured it all out. Obviously, any witch would be uncomfortable facing a hunter like this, but after the Delphi Trust incident, and especially after everything that had happened with Hank Foxx, her ex husband... well, she was left extremely disturbed to say the least...

"Listen, I don't know where you think you picked up the right to enter this place, but you are not welcome here," she snapped.

"No no no, we aren't here to cause trouble!" Sam insisted, but Cordelia was completely intransigent.

"I don't care. Get out of here and do not come back. If I see your faces again I will-"

"What do you know about a witch gifted with the power of resurgence?" Castiel interjected.

Cordelia stopped dead in her tracks. Any ill will she exhibited before had evanesced without so much of a trace. In its place was unshadowed melancholia as the Supreme began to recount her acquaintance with such a witch. After a long pause, Cordelia said one thing, and one thing only: a name.

"Misty..."

Castiel and Sam exchanged a bewildered glance. "Misty?" Sam repeated, steadily growing intrigued.

Cordelia sighed mournfully. "Not very long before this day, a very talented young witch walked through the same doors that the two of you did today. Her name was Misty Day. She had a gift so rare and so great that she stood out against all other witches..." She gazed up, a sad grin of admiration on her face as she reminisced. "She was blessed with the power to bring back the dead. She was so good at it that she even brought herself back after being executed at the stake. Her gift wasn't the only thing that made her special, however. I believe that Misty may have been the only person I ever met who truly had a pure heart... She was the kind of person you meet once in a lifetime if you're lucky..."

Even Castiel seemed to be fascinated by the story of the fallen witch. The Winchester brother asked, "What happened to her?"

Cordelia hesitated. Was this really the business of any witch hunters or monster hunters or whatever the hell they were? It didn't matter. It was nice to finally get it off her chest. "When a new Supreme is being searched for, a group of powerful witches must undergo a set of trials known as the Seven Wonders. The witch who successfully completes every trial becomes the new Supreme. Before I entered them, Misty was one of the four girls who took on the trials. One of the trials, known as Descensum, requires a witch to descend into their personal Hell and return before time runs out." Castiel shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Anyone who runs out of time will expire. Three of our girls were successful, but... one wasn't... Misty ran out of time... She... She died in my arms..." Tears were beginning to flow freely down Cordelia's face. "She just... She was there and then she... turned into ashes... I never even got to say good bye..."

Cordelia turned away from Sam and Castiel, both of whom appeared to be astonished. The Supreme began to talk to herself. "I could've saved her... Being the Supreme didn't matter... She could be alive, but instead she's still down there, and it's all my fault..." A few moments went by as the witch weeped.

The hunter and the angel stayed quiet, giving her time to mourn. Finally, Castiel began to speak. "Cordelia, we have come because my friend, and his brother, was killed through a dark and powerful curse, and the only way to bring him back is for a truly gifted witch to resurrect him."

Cordelia wiped her tears away with her sleeve and scratched at her nose a little. "...You'll have to find help elsewhere. I can't do anything for you."

"I don't think you understand," Cas continued. "I am an angel of The Lord, and I'm aware of a way to bring Misty back from her personal sector of Hell. If we want any chance of saving our fallen comrade, we need her, and that would mean you'd be able to see her again."

Cordelia was skeptical of such a claim, but instead of making assumptions, she decided to truly test it. "Please... umm, what did you say your name was?"

"Castiel."

"Castiel, please come here for a moment..." Cordelia held her hand out. Once Castiel approached her, she put her hand to his forehead. Upon contact, she saw heaven, she witnessed angelic battles, she saw a war with demons, and such things practically caused her to faint. He was telling the truth. Perhaps it wasn't too late to save Misty after all...

Although she couldn't bring herself to trust hunters, she would give anything to get Misty out of that unspeakably agonizing place. "Okay, I'll go along with your plan, but on one condition. Once your comrade is brought back, all three of you must leave this place at once. We can't have hunters sticking around the premises. Do we have a deal?"

Without hesitation, Sam and Cas quickly agreed. "Now, I assume you have Misty's ashes handy? I need them as part of the ritual to bring her back," Cas requested.

Cordelia nodded. She left them shortly and returned with a beautiful, golden urn. "I put Misty's ashes in here... Please be careful with them."

Castiel nodded and allowed Cordelia to escort him and Sam outside to the backyard, where they were joined by Kyle and the two surviving witches of the trials, all of whom had been shocked to hear what was about to commence. Taking the urn from Cordelia, Castiel prepared himself. Misty's time in Hell would soon come to an end.


	3. To Hell and Back

The hot, Louisiana sun was just about 3 hours past its zenith, allowing it to cast the shadows of six figures standing expectantly in the backyard of the grand Miss Robichaux's Academy. Circled around Castiel were Sam, Cordelia, Kyle, and the two members of Cordelia's council, Zoe and Queenie. One could spy a number of spectators gazing out the windows in wonderment. From behind the walls, the chattering of confused and eager females commenced as they guessed what event could possibly be taking place. Though the happening was clearly conspicuous among the curious witches, no one dared go outside or interfere in anyway. Whatever was going on was momentous, and to risk interruption would be consequential.

In the center of the circle of people was a hole in the ground; one large enough to fit a casket inside, but far too shallow to actually accommodate for a burial. Once everything was ready, Cas stepped in front of the edge of the hole so he was opposite a displaced mound of dirt. Carefully, he removed the lid from the urn and bent over the hole. This had to be precise. Any ashes left behind could result in the process not working correctly. Slowly tipping the urn, Cas allowed Misty's ashes to flow freely into the hole, efficiently keeping them from landing anywhere outside of where they were supposed to go. He continuously banged on the bottom of the urn once it was empty to ensure that every last bit of the ashes had landed in the hole. He set the empty urn down on the ground and stepped back. Kyle stepped in to retrieve the urn while Zoe and Queenie pushed the mound of dirt forward. Once the ashes were completely covered in the topsoil and the witches returned to their spots in the circle, Cas was ready for the next step.

Thinking back to what Crowley had implanted in his mind, he began to recite the incantation. The five spectators watched motionlessly as Castiel perfectly spoke a mysterious, cryptic language, which Cordelia was able to decipher as ancient Aramaic. He stayed on his feet for about a minute as he delivered the chant, pausing only to bend down and place his hands over the spot where the ashes were buried. As he continued to speak, his eyes began to glow a vibrant blue color. What sounded like ominous, disembodied whispers could soon be heard, which brewed up looks of alarm on the faces of the younger three members of the group. Castiel shifted into a crouching position and, before delivering the final line, said, "I'd advise all of you to close your eyes now unless you want to be injured." No one hesitated to do this. Shouting the concluding line out into the sky, Cas was quickly enveloped in a blaze of white light. Once everything settled down, slowly and cautiously, the remaining members of the group opened their eyes. Castiel was gone. All they could do now was wait... and pray...

...

"Freak! You're a freak!" the kid named Bobby taunted for... it was impossible to count how many times he had done it by now. "Mr. Kringley, she did it again!"

Why did this boy have to be so vile? What had she ever done to him? Why was it so necessary for him to torment her like this?

Speaking of torment... "If you won't dissect a dead frog, then you'll dissect a live one." The biology teacher stuck the scalpel back in her hands and forced her to make the fatal incision.

"NOOOOOO!" she screamed as the other students snickered in the background. As soon as the teacher's back was turned, her hands covered the dead frog. With a single pulse, the frog was alive again.

"Mr. Kringley, she did it again!"

"If you won't dissect a dead frog, then you'll dissect a live one."

It was like clockwork, but it wasn't something she would ever get used to. Every single time she watched herself cut open that poor, innocent frog, Misty felt as though a piece of her soul were being torn off. It had happened so many times now, and each and every time, the pain worsened. By now, more tears had left her body than blood soaked her once gentle hands.

"Mr. Kringley, she did it again!"

"If you won't dissect a dead frog, them you'll dissect a live one."

What did she ever do to deserve such a fate? Why was this happening to her? Why did no one have any mercy?

"Mr. Kringley, she did it again!"

"If you won't dissect a dead frog, then you'll dissect a-" Mr. Kringley never finished the sentence. Instead, Misty looked up to see the man screaming in agony. Bright light was blazing through his eyes. Misty gasped as the light disappeared, revealing her teacher's eyes to have been burnt out, blood leaking steadily from the sockets. As he collapsed to the floor, a man stood in his place; a man whom Misty had never seen before. Was he a new addition to her torment? No, Misty didn't remember some tall, mysterious man in a tan trench coat and a blue tie. The gasps and looks of terror on the faces of her classmates confirmed that this was something out of the ordinary.

"Who... Who are you?" Misty questioned nervously, but the actions of the mysterious man, or whatever he was, were somewhat rushed.

"There is no time to explain," he answered, tone void of any emotion. "Now come here. We need to have physical contact for this to work."

Misty hesitated. This was all happening so fast. She had no way of knowing what this being was trying to do! However, it seemed she had no choice in the matter. Without warning, he stepped forward and grabbed ahold of her right shoulder. All of the lights overhead suddenly popped, and yet the room was much brighter than it had been before. Misty watched in astonishment as they appeared: two large, terrifying wings unfolded from the back of the man's jet-black shadow. Was she encountering a real angel? She didn't have time to comprehend before the blinding light engulfed her vision. All she could hear was wind and the terrorized screams of her classmates before she felt a sudden tug. The last thing she heard was the flapping of colossal wings before she passed out into oblivion. When she would wake up next, she would be covered in soil...

...

Only a few years prior, Dean had woken, confused and disoriented, in the dimness of a pine box. Previously, upon losing his life after a gruesome spar with hellhounds, his body had been left in shreds. His innards were paste, his skin mutilated, his bones snapped. In this grotesque state, the Winchester brother's corpse was given a decent amount of time to fester six feet under within the wooden confines of the pine box; decomposing well more than enough to prevent even the powerful swamp witch from being able to revivify him. Yet with all these factors, when the angel swooped down and pulled him from the fiery grasp of Hell, Dean awoke to an almost perfectly restored body. If anything, the scar in the shape of Castiel's hand on his left shoulder was the only flaw. It was almost as if nothing had ever happened.

If all that had been possible, then it wasn't exactly a surprise when the spot on the ground where Cas had buried the ashes began to shift. From the soil, a woman's hand began to emerge, followed by a second hand, two arms, and finally a face. The utter shock linked to what had just happened to her was not yet as serious a concern as the desire to yank herself completely out of the earth. After a few moments of brushing dirt away, with some help from Sam and Cas, she stood in glory over the spot she had risen from. Just like a phoenix, Misty Day had reanimated from her own ashes. Like Dean had been, she was fully clothed in the outfit she wore last. The elegant shawl given to her by Stevie Nicks effortlessly masqueraded the handprint on her shoulder; an identical handprint to the one left on Dean, only on the right shoulder rather than the left.

No one seemed to know how to react to Misty's reappearance, especially after believing she was gone for good. Misty herself appeared to be pretty disoriented. It felt like she hadn't set foot on the earth in years... centuries even. She was in the middle of the circle now, and no one moved a muscle as she slowly surveyed the people surrounding her... She recognized Zoe... then Kyle... Queenie... Had she seen the noticeably tall man before? No, and next to him... Her heart leaped. It was the angel. Her gaze froze right there, and she remained petrified until a voice pierced the silence. A voice she had truly longed to hear...

"M...Misty..."

She stood next to the angel, radiating splendid health and a heartfelt smile. Suddenly, everything that was wrong before had lifted from her shoulders. For the first time in a while, Misty felt happy.

"Miss Delia!"

With the speed of a cheetah, Misty sprinted in Cordelia's direction, throwing her arms around the Supreme and sobbing into her shoulder. "Oh, I thought I'd never see you again!" Cordelia cried, holding her fellow witch closer than she ever had before. Her heart felt as though it could burst any minute. Having Misty return created such an overwhelming sense of joy that could never be explained, even if one were to try. The sight of her and Cordelia back together moved her other three companions. Unable to hold back, Zoe, Kyle and Queenie joined in, creating an immense group hug. It was enough to make Sam laugh a little. It was such a beautiful sight.

"Enough of this." Perhaps not everyone was moved. "Her return doesn't change the fact that Dean is still in trouble. We need to get to saving him immedi-"

"Cas..." Sam interjected, shooting the angel a look. "Lighten up. I want him back too, but let them have their time first."

Whatever time he was speaking of, however, was cut short when, all of a sudden, Misty's legs began to wobble, and the witch collapsed to the ground. Cordelia gasped and Cas rushed to the scene immediately. He picked up Misty's head examining her. "She's okay, just under the pressure of what she's experienced. She's going to need a little time to rest and recuperate."

Everyone seemed to understand. Turning to Kyle, Cordelia ordered, "Take her to my room. I need to be able to keep an eye on her and make sure everything is okay."

Kyle nodded, easily scooping the body of the gypsy witch in his arms. With Zoe at his side, he entered the building and made his way up to Cordelia's room, where he lied Misty down on the bed. "She'll probably be out for a while. She's literally been to Hell and back," Zoe noted. She removed the woman's shoes and set her accessories on a night table. Then, to save Kyle some work, she used telekinesis to drag the blankets out from under Misty and preceded to tuck her in. "It's almost shocking. She looks surprisingly peaceful..."

"Let's be grateful for that," Kyle added. Taking Zoe's hand, he started for the door. He allowed it to gently swing shut, but not before looking back for a moment and whispering, "Welcome back, Misty."

...

"You know, I'm in no way supportive of hunters or anything like that, but you gotta admit, that tall guy was pretty fine," Queenie snickered as she took a handful of popcorn from a bowl sitting on the coffee table. She and the happy couple were staying up late tonight, as usual. Now that there were so many other witches at Miss Robichaux's, they didn't seem to get to hang out as just a group of three anymore, so they often stayed up and headed to the living room while the others were sleeping. They enjoyed this quite a bit, as it allowed them to become closer; not to mention Queenie truly respected the couple's ability to actually not make her feel like a third wheel.

"It's kind of hard to think like that when his brother's dead corpse is upstairs..." Zoe remarked as she took some popcorn. They were all informed of the plan to resurrect Dean, but Zoe was the only one who actually saw the two men carrying his body to the guest room. She stared intently at the popped kernels, looking at them as though they had minds of their own and she was trying to read their thoughts. Kyle sat next to her, idly stroking her long, chestnut hair.

"Oh come on, girl. You just won't admit it since you already have a man," Queenie joked, casting a glance at a radio on the other side of the room to make it turn on. As if to confirm this, Zoe held the popcorn in front of Kyle's face, prompting him to open his mouth. She giggled a little when he caught on and she gently placed the kernels inside. He beamed playfully at her as he chewed on the snacks, resulting in an long, exaggerated eye roll from Queenie. "My god, get a room you two!" she laughed.

Suddenly, they all went silent when they began to recognize what was playing on the radio. The sound of Fleetwood Mac filled the room once the previous song ended. The band brought up one thing, and only one thing to their minds: Misty.

"So do you think she's back for good?" Queenie questioned.

"Well... I mean... technically once you're a member of this coven, you're practically family," Zoe claimed. "I wouldn't be surprised if she stayed."

"I would be," Kyle stated, to which the two young women stared curiously in his direction. "I mean, think about all the shit that happened to her once she came here. She seemed to be living a pretty peaceful life in the swamps when I first met her. Then when she came here that first time and after, what happened? She failed the Seven Wonders and went to Hell, she was ran out of her home by some asshat witch hunter, she got into a huge fight with Madison..."

"Speaking of which, what happened to that stone-cold bitch anyway? I feel like I never actually saw her leave," Queenie questioned as she went in for more popcorn.

The witch had barely finished her sentence when Kyle answered her in an uncomfortable tone. "She packed super fast and transmutated before anyone could see her." The girls gave him a funny look, but dismissed his peculiar response as a result of whatever scars that narcissistic bitch had left on him.

"Anyway," Zoe started, bringing everyone back on topic, "Kyle's right. It's isn't unlikely that Misty might not feel safe here anymore... In fact, she'd probably feel more secure if she were somewhere else... But in the end, I think we can respect whatever decision she makes. After all she's been through, the least we could do is be understanding."

The others nodded in agreement, but once the song ended, the radio was silenced. "People are trying to sleep after all," Queenie said with a light shrug.

...

"Cas, say something." Castiel had been standing by the bedroom window, focusing on the horizon that lay behind tall trees and expensive looking houses. He had been silent ever since they entered. Though not exactly out of character, it was... unsettling.

Cordelia didn't seem to be paying too much attention when she granted the two of them permission to stay at the academy for the night. She was too focused on Misty to remember that she didn't have full trust in them. The guest room had one bed, and if angels slept, Cas would have been sleeping on the couch where Dean's body was set down, covered in a thin sheet. Neither of them really trusted leaving the man's body anywhere else at this time. It was best to be able to keep an eye on him, but at the same time, it was pretty unbearable.

"Cas, I get it. I'm aware it isn't exactly comforting to have him in here with us, but I know that's not the only thing that's bothering you." Sam approached the angel, but managed to keep a bit of distance between each other.

"How many times..." Cas finally started, "...will something like this happen before it truly becomes impossible to save one of you?"

Sam took a step closer. "...What?"

"I'm not always the best with feelings..." Cas slowly began to turn around to face Sam, "...but every time this happens... every time I come close to losing you or Dean forever... I feel like something inside me dies as well..." He cast a somewhat woeful glance at the elder Winchester's body before gazing solemnly at the ground.

"Cas..."

"I went down to Hell today, but it wasn't just Hell. Something was different." He paused a moment at the sound of muffled music coming from the floor below, allowing his words to float in the air for a little while. "It was that girl's personal Hell, and I saw everything she did, but somehow, even though they weren't my memories, I felt the effects. Just by being down there, I was given a feeling of what my personal Hell would be like. By being down there, I realized what my greatest fear was, and Sam..." He suddenly made eye contact, "...that's losing you and Dean for good."

Sam said nothing at first. His response was a melancholic nod. Castiel turned to the window again to gaze out into the night. "We aren't losers, Cas," Sam remarked, though there was no visible reaction from the angel. "We look after each other. We protect one another, and you know we would be damned before we'd let one of us die like that." He finally permitted himself to go forward, placing a hand on Castiel's shoulder. "We're family. All three of us. We stick together because it's what we do. Don't you forget that."

The younger Winchester brother gave the angel a reassuring pat before returning to bed. He didn't see the warm smile form on Castiel's face as he pulled the covers over his head.

...

A gasp, a shout, a cry. "Misty! Misty, it's alright, I'm here!" Cordelia stood by her bed, taking ahold of the younger witch's hands. The poor thing was having a nightmare, which was to be expected. It was sad; Cordelia wondered if her friend would ever be the same again. She spent a few minutes mollifying the woman before speaking. "Nothing else will happen. You're safe now."

"B-But, Miss Delia... I... I ain't..."

Cordelia looked puzzled. "Misty... What do you mean?"

"I mean... What I'm tryna say is... I ain't safe... here I mean. I ain't safe here."

Cordelia shook her head, smiling uncomfortably. "W-What are you saying? Of course you're safe here, we're not going to let anything happen to you! No no, never again!"

"Miss Delia, you don't understand..." Misty rapidly shook her head, causing one of the feathers she decorated her long, blonde waves with to dance its way down to rest on the quilt. "Ever since I came to this place the first time... I had bad vibes... very bad vibes... and they di'n get any better the longer I stayed..." Her eyes seemed to open a bit wider, as if she were physically experiencing a revelation. "And I realize... they ain't gonna get any better... s'long as I'm still here..."

Cordelia was still for a few moments. Misty's words played like a sad melody in her mind as she determined what the witch was trying to say. "Misty, you aren't saying... You want to leave?"

"It's nothing 'gainst you or the girls, Miss Delia, but after what happen'd, I just... I can't stay... I need to go..."

"Misty please..." Tears were forming in the corners of Cordelia's eyes. "I don't want to risk losing you again... It was hard enough knowing you were down there the first time! And now with Myrtle gone I just can't handle that kind of loss on my own!"

That was bad news. Misty was wondering where Myrtle Snow was. The woman had so much confidence in her and, quite frankly, it wasn't hard for Misty to respect the whimsical woman who had been Cordelia's true maternal figure. She wished she could comfort Cordelia in a similar way... For the time being, she offered the woman her arms, which she accepted gratefully.

"You won't lose me again, Miss Delia," Misty whispered reassuringly. "After all, you always told me that all I needed was stronger intent."

The weeping woman sniggered into Misty's shoulder at the memory. After holding her close for a few moments, she drew herself away. "I guess I've forgotten how strong you are..." She wiped her nose and stood up straight. "You just do what you need to do to feel safe, but don't expect to not see me again later."

Misty giggled a little bit. "I'll be prepared." She pulled the covers up a bit, smiling. "Thanks, Miss Delia."

Cordelia smiled back full-heartedly. "You're welcome, Misty."

The Supreme made her way to the door, beginning to close it behind her, when suddenly,

"Miss Delia?"

She poked her head back into the room. "Yes?"

"We make a great team."

Cordelia's heart turned soft and light as she beamed at the other witch. "Yes, Misty. We do." Without another word, she shut the door behind her.


	4. Bella Donna

A soul trapped within its own dead body involved a similar feeling to someone forced to spend eternity inside a minute cage, only worse. While a living person would be able to move, and their brain would help them to make sense of what they may hear and the likes, the soul is immobilized, and anything and everything around it is nonsensical. Experiencing this for long enough can drive one to the brink of insanity, deteriorating their very spirit with every passing minute.

Because of this, whatever remained inside Dean Winchester could not make sense of the events occurring within the academy's greenhouse as Misty Day prepared to do what she did best. With some help, the hunter's body was carefully set on top of the large, metal table in the center of the greenhouse. A jar of medicinal swamp mud in her hands, Misty quickly checked Dean's body over for any serious injuries that would need to be taken care of. She needed to be cautious in the presence of his companions. She understood why they wanted to watch, but she kind of wished she were alone. Fortunately, Cordelia was present, so things didn't feel as awkward.

Once she finished scanning for wounds, she was ready. This would be the first time in a while that she resurrected something that wasn't that god forsaken frog. Just thinking about it made her... No. Not now. She had to focus. She was strong. Even something so haunting and traumatizing as Hell itself wouldn't shoot her down. She motioned for her three observers to stand back and give her some space as she began.

With every bit of concentration she had in her, Misty placed her hands on either side of Dean's neck. Slowly, she slid them upwards until the sides of his cranium rested between her palms. Leaning in a bit, she took in a deep breath through her nose and closed her eyes. With ultimate focus, she began to pulse... and pulse... and pulse... This one was a challenge. There was a significant amount of death inside, but she was making progress. Leaning in closer so her head was next to his, she pulsed one more time and...

Dean's eyelids burst and his mouth flew open as he gasped and took in a humongous breath of air. Sam and Castiel were ecstatic as life flew right back into the man. Cordelia gazed at Misty with a proud grin. She did it. She still had it in her. As Dean sat up, Misty smiled excitedly. "Welcome back!" she cheered, looking into his eyes. "Yer friends over there sure were worried 'bout you!"

Dean made no comment. His distant gaze made him look delirious, and not long after he sat up, his body brought him back down. He collapsed on the table, startling and surprising everyone. Worried that something went wrong, Misty put her ear to his slightly opened mouth and her fingers to his neck.

"He's breathing... and he has a pulse..." A sigh of relief echoed within the confines of the greenhouse. "I think he just needs some time to rest and recharge. He seems a bit weak..." Misty moved away from the unconscious Dean, leaving matters into the hands of Sam and Castiel.

It was then that Cordelia stepped in. She had spent a good deal of time being diplomatic, but she hadn't forgotten the deal she made with these men. "Alright, she brought him back from the dead. Now all three of you must be leaving."

Sam stepped forward after Cordelia's acknowledgement of this, stating, "Yeah, we're aware of that, but as you can see, my brother is kind of... unconscious right now, so we can't exactly do that... Besides, she just said that he needs to rest somewhere."

"Yes, somewhere as in _elsewhere_ ," Cordelia responded firmly. "I told you, I can't just house hunters here at the academy. It's too much of a hazard. I'm sure you can find a place to put him until he recovers, but that place is not here."

"Actually..." Misty slowly stepped up the two of them, "He can stay with me for some time while he heals. I have a place in the swamps that would work perfectly."

Cordelia was initially shocked and worried when Misty voiced her willingness to house a hunter, especially after the Supreme's lying husband—a witch hunter—nearly killed her in that same shack. However, she quickly reminded herself that Misty was fully capable of taking care of herself. "Alright then, if that's what you really want... then it's fine by me."

"And what about us?" Sam questioned?

Cas stepped in front of Sam. "It's fine by us too." The angel was suddenly pulled aside by the taller man.

"Are you crazy? You're going to let Dean stay alone somewhere unfamiliar with a witch?"

"Would you rather take him in the car with us? Now that he's alive and weak, he's an easy target. As long as he's with us, he's in danger. Do you want to risk losing your brother again?"

They were all very good reasons. Sam shook his head. "No. I don't." He turned to face the two witches. "Alright. You can take him, Misty. Just... Be very careful."

Misty beamed excitedly. "Alright! It'll be great! He'll be good as new in no time!" With help from Cordelia, Misty eased his body off the table and, in the blink of an eye, the three of them disappeared into thin air.

With just he and Cas remaining, Sam sighed and averted his eyes from the angel. "This really just doesn't feel right to me, Cas. Who even knows what he'll be like when he wakes up? Dean isn't exactly the most predictable guy out there! If anything, _she_ could be the one who's in danger of being harmed!"

"I think you're just worrying a bit too much, Sam," Cas responded, "but... if it will make you feel a bit better, I'll check on the two of them every now and them to make sure everything is all right. Does that sound acceptable?"

Sam nodded gratefully. "Definitely. Thank you Cas." He just wanted his brother to be okay again, he could only imagine what must've been going on through his head...

...

Darkness. It was everywhere. Unavoidable, terrifying, black darkness. Every now and then, blurs of images could be seen. Sounds were everywhere, but everything just sounded like screaming. Dean truly couldn't tell what was happening, but he felt trapped. He tried to scream out to Sam or Cas, but nothing happened. He had never felt more powerless. It wouldn't be long now before he went mad...

Suddenly, out of the blue, he regained his senses, but taking up his vision was a face... A woman's face. She must've been a good few years younger than him, as she looked to be in her late 20's to early 30's. Her smile seemed to have the capability to light up an entire room. Was she an angel? Who was this mysterious woman, and why did she look so happy? Why did her face follow his sudden break from such a strange place? Dean couldn't understand. Everything was too much. Without a second thought, he felt his body drop to the surface below where he quickly passed out...

...

 _Don't say that you love me!_

Dean awoke to the aroma of cooking food and the sound of 70s music. Where the hell was he? He couldn't remember anything following the spar he had had with that disgusting witch...

 _Just tell me that you want me!_

If anything was even remotely familiar, it was the song. He knew he had heard somewhere before. After all, he was a big fan of the classics. What was it called again...?

 _Tusk!_

Yeah, that's it. Tusk, by Fleetwood Mac. Not his favorite band, but they were still pretty decent. That made him feel a bit better. What dangerous entity would possibly listen to Fleetwood Mac after all?

 _Just say that you love me!_

Speaking of which, as his vision gradually became more clear, he began to make out the outline of a figure... female. She seemed to be bustling about around what appeared to be some sort of shack. As he inspected the place and scanned over her image, a sudden realization hit him. Somehow, in his current state, he was able to pick up something that may have stemmed from her very aura. He could sense it. This wasn't just some strange woman. She was...

 _Just tell me that you-_

...a witch! He had to find a weapon somewhere! What if it was Greta? No, as he observed her closer, he picked out no stringy dyed hair, or red nail polish, or whatever other shit she wore. Instead, this woman stuck to her natural blonde hair, which was decorated with red and black feathers that hung down like easily visible earrings from her mostly hidden ears. Her fashion sense was extraordinary. She seemed to wear what you would actually expect a witch to wear, and that wasn't the stereotypical broomstick and black robe kind of witch. Instead, she wore an exotic looking tan dress that ended at her knees, leather bracelets with tiny seashells, brown high heeled boots, and a long, unusual looking necklace. You could say that she may have resembled a gypsy. Dean had never seen anything quite like it. In fact, the only woman he could think of who dressed this way was... Stevie Nicks. That would explain why she was listening and singing along to Fleetwood Mac. But it wasn't until further inspection that he picked out something that made his heart stop...

The dress she wore left both of her shoulders exposed, and when she turned in just the right way, he was given a full view of a darkened spot on her right shoulder in the shape of a handprint. It was identical to the one on his left shoulder that appeared as a result of Castiel carrying him out of Hell. While his had faded a little, the one she bore appeared to be noticeably recent. Had Cas pulled her out of Hell too? What other explanation was there? Perhaps she was on his side?

When the song ended, she approached a fairly new looking boom box, took out the CD, and inserted a different one. This CD was a solo album, making it seem as though she had removed the other four band members. The voice of Stevie Nicks filled the room as the song "Bella Donna" began to play. "You can ride high atop your pony, I know you won't fall... 'cause the whole thing's phoney..." the woman sang along, seeming to feel the music through her very soul. Dean watched her, seemingly transfixed as she threw one of many fancy looking shawls she kept around her shoulders and began to twirl, flawlessly spotting to keep herself from getting dizzy as she spun. The shawl spread like wings across the length of her arms. This girl was magnificent to say the least. "No speed limit, this is the fast lane..." Something about her... Witches always had a very dark presence when Dean was around them, but this one was different. Her presence was warming, and he almost felt protected from being near her.

Suddenly, her head turned in his direction and they made eye contact for the first time... no, this was the second time. Dean began to remember... When he first became aware again, he saw a woman's face before he passed out, and the face was exactly the same as the one he was seeing now, smiling brightly at him. "You're awake!" she acknowledged cheerfully, dancing over to where he lied on what must've been her own bed. She spoke with a thick, Cajun drawl that somehow seemed to be the perfect match for her. "You must've been asleep fer 'bout two full days now! I was beginning to think you'd died again."

Died. That would've explained it. That bitch had killed him. He hoped to God that Cas or Sam had taken care of it. He didn't respond to the woman, only made a few disturbed grunts. "It did make you easier to watch. I'm glad yer awake now, though. I'll make sure to tell that weird guy with the trench coat when he comes to check on you next. Are you feelin' any better?"

A weird guy in a trench coat could only mean one thing... So she did know Castiel. Where was that guy? And where was Sam? He meant to ask when the roar of a lion interrupted both of them... No, that wasn't a lion, it was just his stomach, which felt like it was on fire. When was the last time he had eaten anything? He didn't even seem to be relatively embarrassed when the woman giggled a little. "Yeah that's what I thought. Don't worry though, breakfast is almost done."

With an air of elegance, she returned to whatever it was she had been cooking up. It wasn't like anything Dean was used to eating. In fact, it looked like something he would normally avoid. It appeared to be far more authentic than the burgers he was used to consuming, but somehow it smelled so divine. After a few extra touches, she piled the meal up on an ornate dish and delivered it to the man. "My name is Misty by the way. Misty Day."

"Dean. Dean Winchester." He sat up as she set the plate on his lap and put a fork in his hand. A glass of water was placed on her night table beside her lamp. He hardly even looked to see what he was eating before it was all gone; not a crumb left behind. Misty wouldn't even need to worry about ridding her bed of food remnants afterwords. The man had never looked more satisfied. "I rarely say this to anyone for very good reasons, but God bless you, Misty."

The woman beamed at him. "Glad you enjoyed it." After taking the empty plate from him, she turned her music up a little bit and sang along. "And you say... I never thought it could... Come in out of the darkness... Bella donna..."

Dean shifted around a little on Misty's bed until he was comfortable. "You must really have a thing for Stevie Nicks now, don't you?"

Her face lit up at his words. "Do I? She's my idol! My hero! I love her so much!" She pointed to a framed picture of the legendary singer that she kept before running over to where her shawls were hanging. With every ounce of care she had, she pulled a beautiful, black shawl from its hook. Pink and yellow flowers with green leaves were stitched in perfectly. With ebullient excitement, she dashed back to Dean, spreading the shawl out for him to see. "She gave this to me herself! It's my prized possession!"

To show appreciation, he grinned a little. "That must really be something special in that case." He attempted to motion towards her, but suddenly felt like his head weighed a thousand pounds. He fell backwards onto the mattress and let out a groan.

"You... probably need more rest... Whatev'r curse was put on you musta made ya seriously weak..."

"Yeah, ain't that the truth..." At this rate, even if he wanted to get up, he was in no condition to be able to.

"I'll be back for ya later. For now, I gotta water the plants... They's been livin' on the rain water fer too long now..." She clutched a floppy sun hat and put it on. "In the mean time, rest up, Dean."

"Will do," he replied through a grunt as she departed from the shack. He wished he could see what his brother and Cas were doing, but if that dorky guy left him here for however long, it had to be for a good reason. In that case, he wasn't going anywhere. He'd be here. With Misty. This would be an interesting few days of recovery.


	5. Consolations

_Rhiannon rings like a bell through the night and wouldn't you love to love her..._

Dean had never realized how lovely the music of Stevie Nicks was until he spent a day at Misty's shack. She could be mellow and laid back in all the right ways at one time, then take a turn for the hard, classic rock sound that he had grown to love long ago. He had developed a significant amount of respect for her, even in spite of being informed that the legendary singer was a White Witch. By now, Dean had come to learn that not every witch out there was, to put it bluntly, a bitch.

When he wasn't spending time resting and recovering, he enjoyed the music or spoke with Misty, who was proving to be just as interesting as her appearance may have suggested. Somehow, she was easy for him to talk to, and she seemed to be grateful each time he acknowledged her. And, on top of that, it seemed that every meal she made exceeded being merely satisfactory. What more could he ask for?

Admittedly, having such a calm day was an oddity in Dean's eyes. He found himself occasionally holding himself back from departing in search of some kind of case. Of course, he still exhibited some degree of physical damage, so it was unlikely he'd be on his feet until at least the following day. For now, his brother and Castiel would have to manage without him. Incidentally, it wasn't the first time Dean had been without the two of them. Though a lengthier occasion, and though the woman no longer had a recollection of him due to his reluctant request, his time with Lisa Braeden was able to remain mostly average and uninterrupted. Save for the parts concerning memory loss, why couldn't his time with Misty Day be the same?

Currently, she had just come in for the night after an eventful day of restoring her garden, practicing her powers, and meditating in the woods. Dean was awestruck by the way in which nature was able to influence the things she did. Having already finished dinner earlier, she stripped herself of her shawl and changed into looser fitting articles of clothing. While she provided Dean with the bed, she herself occupied a surprisingly comfortable looking green couch near one of the corners of the shack. She set a blanket down and clicked off a nearby lamp, allowing candlelight to flicker and feebly illuminate the interior of the shack. She didn't turn off the boom box. Instead, she simply lowered the volume. Sometimes, she liked to fall asleep to the sound of her music playing as opposed to the quiet sounds associated with nighttime swamp life. She was just about to settle in for the night when she heard his voice...

"How am I alive again?"

It was a facile question for her to answer. "Simple. I brought ya back. It's a gift I have. Apparently, s'known as the _power of resurgence_." She spoke the title with an audible level of excitement. She loved the name of her gift, as introduced by Zoe when they first met.

There was a pause, but she knew he had more to say. "...Why you?"

Misty breathed deeply. The angel had only provided a brief explanation as to why only she could bring him back. "I... I think it had somethin' to do with the curse that you were hit with. You see, yer spirit was sealed inside yer body, and no angel or demon could reach it. They knew I had the pow'r an'... Well it was the only way..." That sounded right.

A moment of silence. She heard the shifting of blankets as he rose from the bed and took a seat next to her on the couch. He was shirtless, and the sight of his chiseled figure made Misty feel warm and slightly titillated. But what really caught her eye was a very familiar scar on his left shoulder. In all of its glory was an exact duplicate of the handprint that rested mysteriously on her right shoulder. She was quickly drawn to it, but not a word came from her mouth.

She seemed to catch on pretty quickly. Pointing to his shoulder, he began, "I noticed you have one of these." He pushed down the collar of her gown, which didn't reach up very far to begin with, allowing the other handprint to make an appearance. "You know how I got this?"

"How?"

"Remember that weird guy in the trench coat? He isn't just some strange, emotionless man. His name is Castiel. He's an angel of God."

Flashing back suddenly, Misty was able to recall the man's apparent shadowy wings that she saw during her final moments in Hell; revealing themselves as he held onto her shoulder with the hand that now permanently scarred its image into her flesh. She focused on the deep, green eyes that the hunter viewed her with as the revelation hit her.

"I made a deal with a demon a while back to save my brother: a deal that only lasted a year. When the Hellhounds came for me, I was sent down to Hell for eternity, but that same angel you saw pulled me out. This was the evidence he left behind." An extended hesitation followed. "I assume you had a similar encounter?"

Misty shifted her position on the couch as she recounted her own experience. "I guess that makes two of us... You were out cold while you were there, but that place I resurrect'd you at... it was a coven. An academy for witches, to be exact. There used t' be four of us there, an' a new Supreme was need'd since witches were dyin' out." Her discomfort became clearer and clearer as she spoke. "Witches have to take on these trials call'd the Seven Wonders when they need a new Supreme, and when I took the trials with the oth'r three girls, I failed one... the one where you have to go down to a piece of Hell made jus' fer you..." She seemed to be on the brink of a mild meltdown now. "I can't count how many times they made me rip the life outta an innocent animal... I know I gotta be strong, but I can't stop thinkin' bout it and it just-"

"Misty." Dean cut off the witch, placing a hand on her knee to prompt her to settle down. "None of that was actually there. I know it all seemed real, but you need to remember where you were."

"But I saw myself cutting open those poor-"

"Yes, you did, but that's the point of Hell. It can draw out your greatest fears and use them to diminish your spirit until nothing good remains in you. I know a lot of horrible images must be left burning in your mind, Misty, and it'll seem hard to do at first, but you need to learn to kick those memories in the ass and just don't let them affect who you are. I know for a fact that you can do that. Hell, a single day was enough for me to figure out just how strong and capable you are of doing such a thing." He let his lips curve slightly in a grin. "I'll bet you look like some sort of hippie swamp rat to other people, but come on! You have the power to bring people back from the dead. No human I've seen can do that, and I've witnessed a great deal of weird shit in my life already."

Any tears remaining in Misty's eyes no longer the result of gloom. She allowed herself to smile. He was being so kind to her. _No one_ , other than Cordelia and maybe Myrtle Snow, had ever been this compassionate with her. "Thank you, Dean. Thank you so much," was the only way she could think to repay him.

"What are you thanking me for? _You_ were the one who saved my life." Dean laughed lightheartedly.

"You know what I mean." Her grin became noticeably coy the more they interacted. To avoid another awkward silence, she apprised, "So, uhh... That Castiel guy seems like a real piece a' work."

"Oh you have no idea," Dean responded with a snicker. "But he means well. He just cares deeply about me and Sammy."

"Ah," Misty sighed.

Dean let the comment sit in the air before adding, "You too?"

"What?"

"You care about me too?"

Misty couldn't believe the question. "Of course! Why else'd I want you to leave here in the best condition possible?"

Having a little fun with the witch, Dean speculated, "So Sammy and Cas won't come for you?"

"Don't be ridiculous, this's my pleasure. S'the least I could do aft'r ya got me outta Hell."

"Then this is the least I can do to show how thankful I am." With no warning whatsoever, Dean leaned forward and pressed his lips to those of the gypsy witch. The highly surprised Misty tasted sweet, like the fruits she cultivated in her swamp garden. It was a short kiss; before Misty could even lean in herself, Dean had pulled away. "Hope that helped to show how I feel," he snickered, licking his lips a little as he returned to the bed.

Misty sat in the same spot on the couch, visibly stunned. Her heart was racing. No one had _ever_ given her a kiss like that before. Did she like it? Did she even know how to feel? She had no time to make up her mind before he said, "What are you still sleeping on the couch for? This bed is definitely big enough for two people!"

...

Chains. Chains and links that had no apparent starting point were beginning to rip her apart limb by limb. Everything was dark and mysterious, and strange voices could be heard all around her. A number of them seemed to refer to her as Dean, the hunter who had been resurrected a couple of days earlier, but no one seemed to call her Cordelia. The chains tightened. She struggled, but nothing she did would help her.

"Zoe?!" She didn't know who to call out to. Was there anyone around who could hear her? "Queenie?!" No response. Only the same cruel whispers. "Misty?!" She began to struggle, but the chains only tightened their binds on her wrists. She felt like her body wouldn't be able to take it much longer. It was only a matter of time before everything was over.

Seconds before she assumed her body would be ripped to bits, the pain vanished, as if it were never really there. The chains disappeared as the lights suddenly went on, and she was sitting in a chair at a lab table.

"Freak! You're a freak!" Cordelia gazed up to see a child whom she had never seen before, but felt as though he were familiar. "Mr. Kringley, she did it again!"

The words summoned a man who had the same distant familiarity to him. Familiarity wasn't the only thing, however. Cordelia felt... resentment... "Where's the dissection frog?" he asked.

The apparent bully responded, "It's right there, she brought it back to life!"

"Shut up, Bobby. She snuck in a live one to trick you, but the trick's on her. Pick up the scalpel."

Cordelia could only watch as the abusive teacher forced a scalpel into her hands and caused her to involuntarily use it to impale the frog that croaked fearfully below her. Just like the previous vision, everything before her eyes suddenly disappeared.

Now, she was in a dark room. She could tell that she was back in the academy. A fireplace was not only the sole light source in this room, but it was also blocked by a large chair. The one that a certain monster used to sit in. She wondered...

"Heh."

As if the figure's crossed legs and the scent of cigarette smoke weren't enough. Cordelia's horrors were quickly confirmed. A spotlight animated above the chair and shone down on the one and only Fiona Goode. It was all beginning to add up to Cordelia now. What she was witnessing wasn't just her own nightmare. She was witnessing Hell based on what Dean Winchester, Misty Day, and she herself had experienced. The only difference she faced against the other two was that she had never actually been trapped down there...

Looking in to the dark, soulless eyes of her mother, she felt an utter sense of dread. "Mother... What do you want from me? Shouldn't you be dead right now?"

A beat. "That's it?" The older woman suddenly asked. "That's all you have to say? Not even a mere 'I never thought I'd see you again'?" Cordelia stammered a bit, to which Fiona let out a full, hearty chuckle. "Oh I know, my dear. You thought once I was dead it would be easy to just let me go. Well, I hate to tell you, but in real life, it isn't that simple to drop someone, even after you suspect that you've seen the last of them."

"Mother, if you're here to lecture me again, I don't want to hear it," Cordelia responded dismissively, trying to avoid eye contact with the villainous woman as if her life depended on it.

"Lecture? I wouldn't say that..." Fiona replied smoothly, taking a quick puff of her cigarette. "Perhaps inform or clarify would be a better way of putting things... heh. You know, it's just like you to turn a blind eye and let a fragile witch stumble into the hands of a hunter. I suppose such a move should only be expected from the one who _married_ a hunter and induced danger on her own precious coven by doing so..." Wisps of smoke danced sinisterly above the previous Supreme's head.

Cordelia suddenly became defensive. "Misty isn't fragile. She can take care of herself. Besides, _she_ offered to house that man. Her decision had nothing to do with me."

"Really?" Fiona questioned skeptically. "I mean, it just seems to funny... You seem to care quite deeply about her, and yet you're willing to let her risk her life even after all the time she spent in Hell..." Fiona shrugged, bringing her cigarette to her lips again. "I guess there is something those two fools have in common, and now you've had a front row view of what they went through. How do you think she'll feel when she realizes that the one she trusted left her out on her own with a hazard, even after all that time in biology class?"

" **Shut up, Fiona!** " Cordelia snapped, provoking her mother to snicker at her. After taking a moment to calm down and gather her wits, Cordelia retorted, "You know what, mother? Maybe the only reason you believe that is because you don't know how to care about someone other than yourself. I let Misty take charge of her actions because we trust each other. You will never admit it, but you and I both know what she's capable of." Fiona shrugged sarcastically. Cordelia continued, "Misty knows how to be a fighter. If that man starts to become a threat, she'll know how to take care of it. I have faith in her, so why don't you have faith in us?"

Fiona merely smiled disingenuously and nodded her head. "Perhaps. And I assume you believe she's completely sound and stable, even after a great deal of time in Hell?"

"Save it, mother. Your time is up. Your reign of terror ended the very second that you died," Cordelia sneered. "I don't need to listen to you anymore. I don't need to hear anything else you have to say, I don't need you to put me down like this anymore. Now get lost, Fiona. Go back down to the Hell you came from and leave me alone!"

She continued to shout out those last three words as the woman smirked in her direction and watched. The phrase even passed her real lips a single time when she awoke with a start. She bucked forward and sat up in her bed. The nightmare had caused a chilly sweat to coat her skin, making her feel clammy and uncomfortable. As she peered into the darkness, she remained in disbelief. Even from beyond the grave, Fiona still had a way of haunting Cordelia's very thoughts.

The old woman's words echoed ominously in the Supreme's head. What if she was right? What if Dean really did impose a serious threat to Misty? Had she allowed the girl to plummet into dangerous waters? No, she couldn't let herself believe that. If Fiona Goode was truly great at anything, it was being a manipulative bitch. Cordelia wouldn't listen to anything she said. But then again, it wouldn't hurt to check on Misty to make sure everything was okay, would it? Perhaps tomorrow would be a good day to do such a thing, but for the time being, she needed to rest. Pulling the covers back over herself, Cordelia quickly passed into a deep, dreamless sleep, but no particular amount of slumber would be enough to shake away the discontent she now felt.


	6. Fatal Friendships

"Okay, Misty, where are you..." Clearing her mind of any noncore thoughts, Cordelia focused hard as she clasped one of the feathers that Misty always dangled from her ears in place of earrings. The Supreme had kept this one ever since she used it to find Misty when she had been tricked by Madison Montgomery and left for dead in a tomb. Though merely holding it close wasn't enough to track down her location, a clear image of Misty herself began to form in Cordelia's mind. What she saw was much more pleasant than the image she had witnessed the first time: a poignant vision of her dying friend, voice broken as she quietly sang "Landslide" to herself while the air in her casket slowly ran out. This time, she could see that same friend lying down on her own bed, her arms affectionately wrapped around a man whom Cordelia recognized as Dean Winchester. After what she had seen last, it was truly a blessing to see Misty looking so content.

"Yes, I see you... Now to find the two of you..." Cordelia whispered as the peaceful image faded from her mind. To seek out Misty's location, she would have to take an extra step. Withdrawing a deep breath, Cordelia grabbed the needle from which the feather hung down and swiftly pricked her finger with it. She winced a bit as a droplet of blood emerged from where she stuck herself, but the sight before her eyes was temporarily replaced with the image of a wooden shack in the middle of a swamp. The shack overlooked a river, and as Cordelia furthered her observation, she found herself being able to pinpoint a way in which to track down the place. It wouldn't be easy; if it weren't for her powers, she'd probably need a boat if she didn't want to cross through the swamps on foot. Having mastered the power of transmutation to the point that her technique was practically flawless, however, she wasn't too worried about such a thing being essential.

The Supreme gathered her belongings and prepared to head out. Though the hunter didn't appear to be threatened by the presence of a witch, she felt that it would be best to visit them alone so he didn't get the wrong idea. She doubted he would mind her appearance, however. After all, the only thing she would be doing was checking on Misty to make sure the woman was doing okay. If anything, she knew for a fact that her friend would be delighted to see her. As long as her fellow sorceress was in the pink, she would be happy as well.

Rushing down the stairs, the only interactions she made were with Zoe and Queenie. The two would be in charge of the academy until she returned. She briefly explained that she was somewhat worried about Misty and that she was going out for a visit, making sure to avoid mentioning the part about Fiona invading her mind. She had no doubt that bringing up anything of the likes about that wretched woman would leave the two girls appreciably perturbed. Fortunately, they completely understood where Cordelia was coming from and agreed to handle things for the time being. Grateful, the woman donned a pair of sunglasses and headed out the grand front entrance. "I'm here for you, Misty. Always," she mumbled quickly as she began her search for the wooden shack.

...

Everything had happened way too fast. Unscrewing the cap from a bottle of beer, Sam was evidently disturbed. The younger Winchester brother sat himself down at a table and switched on his laptop. Castiel had temporarily departed from the motel to check on Dean, leaving Sam alone at the motel with his conscience. A strange and confused jumble of emotions clouded up his mind. It didn't seem to make sense, but too many emotions seemed to make the man feel oblivious as to what he really should be feeling.

He took a swig of beer as the computer's homepage flashed onto the screen. Maybe searching for a local case could help take his mind off of things. For the time being, he didn't feel comfortable with leaving Dean on his own with some strange woman. As he contemplated cases, however, he began to feel ridiculous. Ever since life behind the walls of Miss Robichaux's Academy was revealed to the public, New Orleans now accepted witches with open arms. Apparently, these talented ladies seldom posed a threat to the place. Sam was aware that rougarous were supposedly common in Louisiana, but research revealed that there had been no sightings of anything that would be evident of one in years. Perhaps he could try vampires. Although the only vampire he knew of who made an appearance in the state was Dean's friend, Benny, he had a feeling that perhaps he could find something. Nevertheless, he began to search the web for anything that could work.

Benny... Dean had established a friendship with a vampire, and now he was alone with Misty Day, a witch, somewhere out by the bayous. Sam knew they had aided his brother, but he couldn't keep from feeling disturbed by this. They couldn't put their trust into any normal individual in the first place; why were they trusting the enemies? What if this was all some trick? What if there was some underlying plan that they weren't aware of? Were they subtly being lured to their demise?

He was overreacting. These witches were steadfast in their actions. Unless he did anything to create a conflict, they wouldn't be a threat. Perhaps he didn't need to worry about Dean being with that witch. After all, hadn't he himself had a friendship with a supernatural entity? Surely he would never forget Amy, a kitsune with whom he had established a strong friendship with. Of course, if any sort of relationship developed between Dean and Misty, he hoped it wouldn't have to have a tragic end like his own had. Unfortunately, after considering past relationships he and his brother had had with others, he wasn't expecting any happy endings to occur any time soon.

Sam's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of large wings flapping. "All is well on Dean's side," reported Castiel. "He still needs to rest, though. It seems that he should be back to his normal self in a few days."

"Why..." Sam began, swiveling the desk chair so he could face the angel, "...are we doing this all in the first place?" He questioned, looking skeptical. "You're an angel. Why can't you just heal him yourself and put an end to all this?"

"In case you have forgotten, the grace I'm using is starting to run out," was his answer. "Pulling someone out of Hell didn't do much to help that. I need to be conservative about how much I'm using from now on."

This wasn't enough for Sam. "Can't you at least try?"

"Sam. I understand that none of this feels completely right, but you're going to have to be a bit open-"

"Open?" Sam stood up. "Cas, have you not noticed all of the shit that we have been through over the years? How many times we've been completely screwed over by another person or whoever it was that we thought we could put our faith into? How so many of those who we actually could trust ended up dead because we let them have a part in our lives?"

"Arguing about this isn't going to solve anythi-"

"Oh really? Then what do you suggest we-"

"We can start by letting me speak..." Cas interjected. Sam stared at him for a few moments before taking a seat again. "For the time being, there isn't anything we can do but go on with our lives without Dean for a little while. We'll wait for him to recover and then, when he's ready, he'll come back to us. Continuing with your family business isn't something that requires him to be at your side for you to do. So, with all that in mind, what you should do, as you humans say, is shut your trap and get back to work."

Before Sam could say another word, Cas had flown out of sight. Looking stunned as he always did when Castiel spontaneously became sassy, Sam returned his gaze to his computer and continued his research. "Let's see, vampires... vampires... Huh, well look at this... Right here in New Orleans? I see... This could work..."

...

They had been awake for a couple of hours, but the duo decided to remain in bed for a little more time. Instead of a CD, Misty had inserted a mixed cassette tape she had made a while back into her boom box. The tape consisted of some of her favorite Fleetwood Mac songs and certainly left Dean impressed. He was beginning to think that he had been the only person in the world who still enjoyed playing audio tapes. It seemed like the perfect way to enjoy the bright and sunny morning.

As Cordelia had seen, Misty's arms were wrapped gently around Dean's upper body as she cuddled with him. The larger man rested his head on his left hand and used his right to tenderly stroke the woman's curly, chest-length hair. From the speakers, the serene sound of the song "Albatross" filled the room. The song pre-dated the days in which Stevie Nicks and Lindsey Buckingham had joined the band, but it had such an amorous sound to it that Misty felt she had to include it on the tape. It always seemed to mollify her, even during times of great stress and angst.

She wasn't the only one feeling the effects of the music. Dean's mouth gaped open in a yawn as he stopped stroking Misty's hair, instead choosing to rest his palm on the back of her head. "You know, I don't think I've ever been this relaxed." His gaze shifted towards the sealing for a minute. "Come to think of it, I think this may actually be the first time in my entire life that I've ever been relaxed... We _are_ relaxing right now, right?"

Misty giggled. "No, we're on a very difficult an' stressful mission, so stop the dilly dally an' focus!" she teased, giving him a little nudge.

"Hey, watch it," he replied, nudging her back playfully. Turning his head, he gazed out the window to where he could see her garden. Flowers and fruits alike basked in the warming sun, flourishing beautifully. It was amazing how much progress she made in such a short amount of time. The garden couldn't have been touched since she left the swamps. Perhaps she resurrected the dead plants? That idea wasn't too far fetched...

He turned back to see that she had looked up, giving him a full view of her captivating face. "You know, I'm not one for veggies and greens and all that rabbit food and stuff, but... those fruits of yours look delicious."

The corners of Misty's lips curled into a smile. "Thank you. I put my heart 'n soul into them. The more love 'n care ya add, the healthier they end up bein'."

"Well they do look great to say the least." Dean's green eyes began to stare deeply into her blue ones. "And _you_ look beautiful, to say the least..."

She blushed hard.

For a second, Dean felt as though he weren't in charge of his actions. Perhaps he was caught up in the moment, but as he gazed into those deep blue eyes of hers, he found himself leaning in closer... closer... closer... he wasn't far away when she realized what he was going to do. A tingling feeling ignited inside of her as she began to lean in as well, puckering her lips a tiny bit and readying herself for a passionate kiss.

"Misty? Are you there?"

Misty pulled away, much to the disappointment of the older Winchester brother. She perked up suddenly the way a dog does when its owners return from a laborious day of work. She could pick out that voice a mile away. It always made her happy.

"Miss Cordelia!"

Misty threw herself off the bed and sprinted for the door, swinging it open with great force. There stood her friend in all her glory. The younger witch was ecstatic.

"Oh, how are you? How did you find us?"

"You know I can always find you," she replied casually, but with a convivial smile. After she was invited in, she turned to the confused looking hunter and raised a hand. "Hello, Dean." She was aware that this was the first time he had actually seen her. "Cordelia Goode. It's a pleasure."

Dean nodded slowly, looking to Misty for clarification.

"Cordelia's the Supreme witch of the coven. She runs things back at Miss Robichaux's. She's also my teach'r and best friend." Misty was obviously excited by the advent of the woman, and though the Supreme seemed happy to see her, Dean could tell that something was bothering her. "So, what brings ya here, Miss Delia? Would you like some tea or anythin'?"

"I'm fine, thank you. I'm actually here because I need to talk to you about something..." Cordelia looked to Dean for a moment. She had originally planned to speak with Misty alone, but perhaps he should really be present as well. Prompting Misty to sit down somewhere, Cordelia headed over to the couch and let out a sigh. The two expectantly waited for her to begin.

"So... I had a dream last night... Well, a premonition, really. I don't know where it came from, but it seemed serious. It had to do with the two of you." Misty and Dean exchanged a glance. "See, what I saw first was truly horrid, but I doubt I was mistaken when I believed that what I was witnessing was your experiences in Hell. One moment, I was in some malicious void, bloodied and chained and screaming out..." Dean gulped and shifted uncomfortably, "The next, I was in a biology class being forced to dissect a frog against my will..." Misty went pale and cringed, "And then... I was with my mother..."

Misty's eyes widened. "You... You saw Fiona?"

"Yes, Misty. Indeed I did."

"Oh... Oh no... What'd she say?"

"She told me..." She scoffed slightly as though she were completely doubtful of the woman's words, "She said that I was leaving you alone in the dark, Misty. She said that I kicked you to the curb and left you in the hands of a terrible hazard."

"Wait, slow down," Dean jumped in. "What do you mean by _hazard_?"

Cordelia frowned. "I hate to say it, but that hazard would be you, Dean. She said you were a danger to Misty and, essentially, that you'd probably need to be put in your place at some point. She was far from fond of you to say the least."

"Well then." Dean sneered a bit, appearing to be more offended than he actually was. "No offense, but your mom sounds like a real bitch."

"Oh you have no clue," Cordelia responded, shaking her head a little.

"I'm not sure I'm understandin' this right..." Misty mumbled. "Why would Fiona give a damn 'bout my safety in the first place?"

"That's the point. She doesn't," Cordelia answered, shaking her head. "She could care less about your well-being. I think this is just her way of trying to mess with my head from beyond her grave." She sighed in defeat. "I guess I should've expected her to continue what she excelled at most in life even after she kicked the bucket."

"Well, Miss Delia, ya don't need to worry. I'm perfectly fine. I can take care of myself." Misty beamed reassuringly.

"I am completely aware of that, Misty, and that's what I told her."

"Next time, tell that mean ol' bitch to stay dead," Misty replied sardonically. "B'sides, Dean has been wonderful to have around. I have no doubt that he would never hurt me." She made her way back to the bed and plopped herself right next to him. "Right?"

He had been snickering upon hearing Misty's comment about Fiona, but after hearing the rest of what she had to say, Dean fell silent. Maybe it was true that he wouldn't harm her voluntarily, but who's to say he wouldn't be forced to, or that she would merely stumble into danger simply by being with him? By now, it seemed the odds of bad things happening to people like her had transformed into guarantees. He'd have to tell Misty this sooner or later, but for now, he kept his mouth shut. Upsetting her was the last thing he desired to do right now.

Instead, he responded with a nod to provide a quiet and somewhat hollow confirmation. This seemed to be enough for both of them, and once Cordelia felt reassured, the two ceased discussion of the daunting matters. The visit lasted about an hour and it seemed to the two witches that Dean was giving them their space, but in truth, he didn't want to voice any of his thoughts at the moment, especially not in front of Cordelia. He tried to push away the thoughts, but now, he couldn't help feeling that Misty was in peril because of his presence.

No. This time would be different. He wasn't going to let Misty perish as a result of being with him. No one would again, if he could help it. Sure there was a significant number of people out there who have and were still alive, but this would be a good place to start. For now, he wasn't exactly sure what he would do, but he would find a way to keep this woman safe. There was no way in Hell that he would lose her. Not ever.


	7. Leather and Lace

Nothing. Nothing to see, no one to hear, a void of endless darkness for eternity. No gates of heaven awaited her when she passed. Yet, her awareness somehow remained, as if she knew of the darkness around her, but she didn't know how to escape it. Could she even escape it in the first place? It didn't seem the least bit likely. Not until she heard the voice out of the silence...

"Hey, wake up. Wake up, miss, wake up."

Someone had found her, wherever she was. Someone was speaking to her and shaking her body. Perhaps there was more to this strange world than just darkness? But why were they telling her to wake up? Maybe... Maybe this darkness was only a result of her closed eyes and an obliviousness based on her assumption that she had died?

Cautiously, she attempted to open her eyes, and found that she actually could still do such a thing. Not only did she still have her body, but she was in the middle of a forest. A man she didn't recognize was standing over her. What was going on? Was she alive again? Did this man bring her back?

Correction: this wasn't a man. At least, not any more. Once her vision became clear and she focused her gaze on him, the man bared his teeth, and in the place of normal human teeth were hideous, jagged fangs. Was he... Was he a vampire?

Her initial reaction was to leap to her feet and defend herself, but as she stirred, he placed his hands on her. "No, it's not what you think. I'm not here to harm you in anyway. I'm here because I need your help. You're a human, correct?"

"Last time I checked..." She sat up as he removed his hands, holding her head out of disorientation. As her senses slowly and gradually returned to her, the girl looked at him defensively. "And why should I help you? I don't even know who you are."

"It doesn't matter who I am," he replied flatly. "What matters is that you are going to help me, and you most certainly will do so because it's the only way either of us can get out of here."

Her expression became befuddled. "Where is _here?_ " she questioned as she scanned her surroundings. This wasn't like any forest she had seen before. Something was off...

The vampire tilted his neck up and gazed through an opening in the canopies of leaves. "Well, miss, _here_ would be Purgatory."

The girl scrambled backwards a bit. What he was saying was madness! Purgatory? Really? "That's insane! Purgatory isn't real! Neither is Heaven or Hell or any of those. It's all just some made up nonsense that people feel the necessity to preach about because they're too worried about death to even live their own lives."

"That may be what you thought when you were alive, but all three of those areas are very much real." Every now and then, the man would alertly glance in some random direction, as if he were scouting for something.

The young woman remained unconvinced. "No, this... this is impossible, we're probably in some forest on the outskirts of-"

"Watch out!" Without warning, the vampire lifted her to her feet and pushed her away from a strange figure that was charging for her. Unfortunately, the figure was able to catch itself before it could continue onward in the wrong direction. What appeared to be another human quickly reached the woman again. It wasn't until they were face to face that the horrified female realized that this thing couldn't be _less_ human. Once it had a hold on her, the jaws of the beast expanded nearly to the size of its entire face. Rows of jagged teeth opened up for her before she could do anything to stop it, but no bite ever came. Black blood oozed from a clear wound as the man thrusted an otherworldly-looking blade into its neck, decapitating it instantly.

The distressed woman watched as the repulsive, headless body collapsed before her. Even after it hit the ground, she continued to stare at it in shock, breathing heavily. "What... the hell... was that..."

"It's called a leviathan," the man replied. "They thrive here like the rest of us. You see, monsters don't go to Heaven or Hell when they die, so we end up here in Purgatory. We spend eternity here, endlessly hunting each other."

The explanation did nothing to make the girl any less perturbed. "Them what the hell am I doing here?! I'm not a monster!"

"That's a good question," the vampire responded. "Humans aren't meant to go to Purgatory, which is why you rarely see one around this place. How you ended up here is a complete mystery. Perhaps a reaper lost track of you on the way to Heaven or something of the likes.

Anxious, she began to frequently look over her shoulder, the same way he had done before. "So I'm stuck here now? Forever?!"

"Not exactly..." The vampire took a few steps in her direction. "See, because humans aren't meant to be here, it is possible for them to leave. There is a portal around here that only your kind can pass through. It will lead you back to Earth, but I can't guarantee it will be easy for you to find... alone."

After mentally going over the information he provided her with, she said, "So... You're saying that you want to help me find the portal?" He nodded. "What's in it for you?"

He began to smirk a little. "The portal can only transport humans, but you can still return to Earth while carrying the soul of a monster. When we get close to the portal, you are going to take my soul into your arm, and when you return to Earth, you will find my remains and resurrect me with it. I'll tell you in greater details when we're about to reach the portal."

It all sounded strange, but she supposed it was the least she could do. Once she agreed to the plan, the vampire tossed her a blade much like the one he had, which she could barely hold at first. "You're going to need that. Finding the portal won't be a walk in the park. You need to be able to survive."

One she maintained a better grip on the blade, she shook her head. "Thanks, but no thanks. I think I can fend for myself just fine without the use of weapons."

He shook his head. "No, really, you can't survive here wi- look out!"

As if on cue, a rougarou appeared behind the woman, sprinting in her direction. Not only was she completely unfazed by the ambush, however, but after focusing on the beast for a mere second, the thing spontaneously combusted. With a fearless demeanor, she watched as the burning monster wailed and dropped dead to the ground in seconds. A nearby vampire that had been watching the scene was the next attacker, but as it began to charge her, a single flick of her wrist sent the monster flying until its neck collided with a tree branch, causing its head to be knocked clean off.

Impressed, her new comrade chuckled. "Well well, you aren't just some average human nobody after all, now, are you? I must say, it is always a pleasure to meet a witch."

...

Dean gazed out a window, observing thoughtfully as the last streaks of New Orleans sunshine began to fade into the still of the night. Today hadn't differed very much from the previous ones, except for the fact that he had finally gotten to his feet. He was recovering pretty quickly. It would only be a couple more days of this, and then it was back to the old grind. Soon, he'd be back with Sammy, kicking ass the way they always did so well. Back to it all. Saving people, hunting things, the family business... Couldn't it all wait a few more months?

He understood it was all serious business and everything, but he certainly was in no rush to leave this woman behind. Sure, he had thought that being near her would push her onto the brink of danger, and he did tell her what he felt the previous day after several quiet hours following Cordelia's visit. Her response was almost to be expected: "Oh Dean, you don't need to worry. I've been workin' on all my pow'rs, and if the time comes that somethin' gets the best of me, I got plenty of plans to bring myself back. You bein' near me ain't gonna bring my end." The words did boost his feelings on the matters. After all, Misty had truly proven that she was capable of taking care of herself. He was only being paranoid, but who wouldn't be after losing as many friends and lovers as he had?

Love... It was a good feeling that he felt the need to deprive himself of. Relationships weren't exactly his thing, and it was in no way his fault. However, if anything was good about finding love a few times along the way, it was that he could rejoice and indulge in it whenever it reached him. The best part about what he had found this time was that there seemed to be a chance that he could truly make something out of it. He always had to make such major sacrifices to protect the ones he loved if they didn't perish on their own first. It wasn't that they were weak or anything; they were mere, average humans. That being said, in no way was Misty Day an average human. Hell, she was even a rarity among the witches themselves. Just like him, she had been to Hell and back. Who else could say that? Of the many other enticing women he had met in his life, it was impossible for him to think of a single one who could. No way, she was it.

Maybe this time there really was hope. If that was the case, all he wanted to do for now was enjoy it. After all, it wasn't like he was getting to the light at the end of the tunnel any time soon. Letting out a sigh, his eyes shifted in the direction of the garden. He spent the first real time back on his feet out there with Misty earlier today. Dean was definitely not one for garden work, but tending to the plants with this woman seemed rejuvenating in a funny way. Afterwards, she brought him to the spot in the woods where she spent her time meditating alone. Apparently, she was able to connect most with her inner quiddity when her surroundings consisted only of the natural world. Misty was very much into nature, but Dean knew that he could never label her as a hippie. Her spiritualism was fascinating, and it was endlessly riveting to listen to her views on the world around her.

Of course, the more he talked to her, however, the greater his desire to stay with her became, and he knew he couldn't do that. Why did this whole situation have to be so complicated? Why couldn't all the obstacles simply vanish?

The knocking of heels on hard wood sounded as Misty entered the shack. She let the door click shut behind her as she stowed the clean dinner plates that were stacked on a countertop into a cupboard. She was beginning to remove her lace shawl when she noticed that Dean had already flopped himself onto her bed. She, too, wasn't taking his impending departure lightly. When people left this place, they never returned. Ever. Perhaps Cordelia would be the only exception. She never understood why. Maybe she weirded people out, or perhaps they were bothered by the atmosphere of the swamps. She didn't know, but she wished someone would just stay put for once. Although she did do well in solitude, she too became lonely sometimes.

It did seem that the hunter may have taken a liking to her, however. Maybe if she utilized those feelings the right way, he would return? She could always just tell him how she felt too. She wasn't sure what exactly he could do about it, but the two were comfortable enough to sympathize with each other. Choosing to keep her shawl on for the time being, she nonchalantly approached the spot where he lied. "Thanks for the lovely day today, Dean," she began. "I had a really good time with ya."

His pensive expression became lighthearted at the sound of her voice. "Hey, what can I say? I'm a fun guy."

"That you are." Misty took a seat on the lower end of the mattress. "I just want'd to tell ya that I've been havin' a good time with you since the beginnin'. I'm so glad that I decided to take you und'r my wing until you recovered." Her voice was heartfelt and sincere, but one could even pick out a tinge of longing if they listened close enough.

Feeling similar, Dean nodded his head, his grin gradually fading. "Me too, Misty. Me too." They remained silent for a few seconds. "I'm actually feeling a lot better now. I should be good to go in a day or so."

Misty's visible happiness melted away. "Oh," she replied flatly, averting her gaze. She _really_ didn't want him to go. Another beat. "Will you ever be back?"

"Uhh..." Dean breathed out as he contemplatively stared out the window again. "Let me get back to you on that." He refused to tell her that the odds were slim as of now, instead trying to remain optimistic. "I'm sure we'll figure something ou-"

"I don't want you to leave," the witch blurted without warning. Her eyes were a little watery, but she seemed to be able to hold back from tearing up. She wanted to remain firm and in control of her emotions right now, but she couldn't help it if they minimally slipped out. "You've brought me so much happiness in the short time we known each oth'r, 'n I don't wanna risk never seein' you again. I don't think I could manage that."

"I know," he sighed. He shifted down the mattress to where she sat and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. "But you know what? Me not coming back to this exact spot doesn't mean that you'll never see me again. Hell, I really wouldn't be surprised if I saw you down the road at some point. You seem like the type to make an appearance when one would least expect it."

Misty flashed back to when she first met Zoe and Kyle. After he was killed in a bus crash, Zoe and another witch had sewn Kyle back together, and their attempts at resurrection drew Misty to them. Without warning, she had transmutated into the back of Zoe's car, and when she first spoke, she scared the shit out of her oblivious fellow witch. She giggled a bit as she recalled the memory. "Yeah... I suppose you can say that."

The hunter patted her shoulder. Suddenly, his mind conjured up what he figured must've been an excellent idea. "Hey, you know... me and my brother... we have this place in Kansas... It's the most kickass bunker you could ever find, but it's also pretty damn cozy. Maybe, if you want, I could give you the address. I doubt finding an extra room would be a problem if you ever wanted to pay me and Sammy a visit. We'll usually be working on cases, but I'll find a way to make time when you're there."

She didn't even feel it necessary to think the suggestion over for a mere second. Misty was immediately appreciative to hear that there really was a solution after all, and a great one at that! Turning herself around, she affectionately threw her arms around him. "Thank you, thank you, Dean, thank you!"

His own arms quickly embraced her in return, pulling her in until she was close enough to feel the thumping of his beating heart concealed behind flesh, a button-up, and leather. In the same way that Misty was still adorned with her shawl, Dean had not yet removed his leather jacket in spite of coming back inside a couple of hours prior. When he looked at his arms, he could see how well his leather jacket seemed to complement the lace shawl she wore, even though they were completely different pieces and styles of clothing. Leather jacket... Lace shawl...

"Leather and lace..."

Misty pulled away slightly. "Huh?"

Dean pointed to his jacket, " _Leather_ ," and then to her shawl, "and _lace_."

Misty grinned gaily at the Stevie Nicks song reference. "I love you," she said merrily. It was the way a friend would say it to a fellow companion: quick, casual, inconsequential. However, when she realized exactly which words flew from her lips, her fair cheeks became a rosy shade of red.

Dean merely stared at her with a blank face. For a second, she was afraid that he didn't agree with her, or that he was repulsed by her words. Her worrying nearly caused his own words to cruise by unheard.

"I love you too."

Her heart was a burning ember, her soul soaring the skies just like the white-winged dove. When the people said that words have power, they weren't kidding around. It was possibly the first time anyone had ever said such a thing to her. How amazing it was that a mere four word phrase could set her at the pinnacle of happiness, or so she thought at the moment. She didn't expect that she'd feel even more joyous in about a minute or so.

She was lost on words. "Dean... do ya really mean that?"

The hunter responded with a toothy grin. "Come on, you know damn well I do! What, do you want me to prove it?"

Dean didn't wait for an answer. Unexpectedly, he took Misty's hand and stood up, leading her to the middle of the room and signaling her to stay put. He strayed for a moment as he approached her boom box. He turned it on, inserted a Fleetwood Mac CD and skipped to a track. "Now, I will kill you if you don't keep your mouth shut about this, especially around my little brother. I'm not exactly the world's greatest dancer or anything, but I noticed how you love twirling and all that crap, and as you know, I've been feeling way better lately, so I figured I'd try something with you... So, Misty..." He pressed the play button, and the enchanting melody known as "Gypsy" played beautifully through the speakers. Misty immediately perked up at the sound of it. She hadn't even mentioned it to him, and yet Dean somehow seemed to figure out that the song was one of her favorites. He wasn't done yet, though. Approaching her again, his hand took ahold of her own and held it passionately. "Do you want to, umm..."

"Yes, yes, I'd love to dance with you, Dean!" Misty beamed ecstatically at the offer. Taking his other hand in her own, she moved him and herself dead center in the middle of the room's open space. They didn't go too crazy, instead choosing to dance in a style that resembled that of a waltz. Occasionally, Dean would extend one arm and allow Misty to twirl a single time before she returned to him. As the music progressed, blissful laughter from the two of them interrupted Misty as she sang along to the lyrics, but even she eventually could no longer stay in sync with Stevie.

 _To the gypsy that remains..._

Dean's right arm extended out further this time, allowing Misty to perform the twirl that Stevie herself labelled as perfect to the full length. This time, however, she also spun in the opposite direction, whirling straight into his grasp.

 _...faces freedom with a little fear..._

Once back in his arms, the dancing met a hesitation as Misty stood on her toes a little. Picking up on her intentions, Dean lifted the witch off the ground slightly as she wrapped her own arms around his neck in an embrace...

 _...I have no fear, I have only love..._

The soft lips of the witch met those of the hunter and stayed there. This time, she wanted the kiss to be real. Although the spinning had ceased, it seemed their entire world was constantly revolving now. For a second time, Dean caught the sweet taste of Misty as her lips pressed deeper into his own, and this time, it was to the full extent. He breathed out longingly, feeling the same sense of undeniable and unconditional pleasure. As they caressed each other, it was almost like every malicious thing that had ever happened to them was no longer a concern. Nothing in the entire world mattered right now, as long as they were together in this moment of unadulterated love.

 _And if I was a child... and the child was enough... enough for me to love... enough to love..._

...

No music was playing on the boom box when the elder Winchester brother's eyes dragged open and light returned to his vision. Last night, he had fallen asleep with Misty Day in his protective arms, which had clearly moved their position, as if she had leapt from his embrace at some point. That would've made sense. She wasn't in bed anymore.

After groggily rubbing his eyes, Dean headed out once he realized that the shack was empty. "Hey, Misty, isn't it a bit early for gardening?" he questioned out in the open. "We haven't even had breakfast yet..." When he opened the door and made his way to the garden, however, no witchy figures were there to be seen watering flowers or anything. She must've been meditating.

As Dean made his way to Misty's spot in the woods, he began to ponder whether or not it was a good idea to distract her while she was in a cogitative state. However, he learned that such worriments were nugatory when the witch wasn't there either... Where was she? Anxiety steadily growing, the hunter picked up the pace in his step as he returned to the shack. The woman was nowhere to be found. She had disappeared without a tra- what was that?

Bending down in front of her door, Dean picked up one of Misty's dangling feather earrings, which sat lonesome on the dirty ground. His heart began to race. Moving the feather revealed a note that lay under it. Upon reading it, Dean realized that what he feared most would happen had indeed occurred.

"SON OF A BITCH!" he roared furiously. Misty had been taken. An address to where she was being held hostage was written on the paper, and Dean knew that they, whoever _they_ were, were obviously only directing him to a trap. He didn't care, though. He wasn't going to let this keep happening. Misty would not be harmed because of him. Arming himself in weapons and furious wrath, Dean prepared to set out and find the witch and her kidnappers. Before beginning anything, Dean quietly reassured, "Hang in there, Misty. You'll be okay. I promise you I'll find you." And he would.


	8. The Brink of Peril

Just when she hadn't been expecting it, the sixth sense was trying to inform Cordelia that something was definitely out of sorts. Maybe it was a premonition, or maybe it was just worriment, but she suddenly needed to be certain that her fellow sorceress was out of harm's way. Sometimes she wished that they had better methods of keeping in touch with each other. She had reminded herself time and time again that Misty had potential. By now, she was fully aware that she really didn't need to check on the witch at all anymore. However, this time was different. This time, she truly felt that she needed to be completely sure that Misty wasn't in danger.

"Misty?" The Supreme trudged through a small, muddy piece of land to reach the dangling flowerpots that she knew belonged to her sister witch. Today, the garden was untouched. The woman should've been out not long ago to water her beloved plants.

"Misty!" Cordelia shouted one more time before looking in the direction of the shack. The door was wide open. Her skin paled. An alarmed look in her eyes, she hurried into the vacant shelter. No one. Not even Dean was there. It didn't make sense that they would just depart without a trace. Something had to have happened. How would she ever find them?

Cordelia took in deep breaths as she tried to mollify herself. The mystery of their whereabouts was something she could solve. After all, she did have The Sight, didn't she? Shutting her eyes and concentrating, she began to allow her sense of awareness to take over.

Through her focus, she was drawn to a spot that she couldn't say she would have supposed would be of any significance: outside the shack, right before the front door. When she opened her eyes, however, nothing distinct was there to be found. Was it the door itself, maybe? She was starting for the knob when she noticed something shimmering at her feet... As she bent down, she observed the metal piece of one of Misty's feathers. The accessory was much like the one she kept for herself and used to find the other witch on certain occasions. As she cautiously plucked it off the ground, she was overwhelmed by the amount of energy that it held. Almost instantly, she was hit with a view of the previous night:

"Misty..." The witch and the hunter were fast asleep when a high, feminine voice pierced the silence. Though the larger man did not stir, the woman's eyes fluttered open. Upon hearing the voice a second time, her suspicion was clear as she rose from the mattress and removed Dean's muscular arms from her body, carefully keeping him from waking up as she did so. Cautiously, Misty crept towards the source of the sound. By the looks of it, it seemed that she had fallen asleep in the clothes she wore last, and Cordelia observed a few feathers poking out of her waves of blonde hair, including the one she now held in her hand. The door opened and shut behind her. She spent a few moments gazing into the dark before two shadowy figures emerged. In a flash of motion, the larger one forced a bag over her head. It was then that Cordelia noticed the feather drop down, clattering quietly to the solid ground below. She received a bludgeon to the head as the figure knocked her out and began to carry her away. The shorter figure quickly scrawled something onto a small piece of paper and, taking notice of the little feather, hid the note right under it. Then, like a phantom, the figure had vanished right there.

Cut to the following morning. A wary and confused Dean Winchester transformed into a nervous wreck the moment he discovered the note. Boiling with rage, he stepped aside and muttered something under his breath. A prayer. A man in a trench coat answered the call. Castiel. One hectic exchange later and the two were gone.

It seemed that a search party for Misty Day had already commenced, but that couldn't be all there was to it. No, Cordelia would never believe that. There was more to this, and she had a terrible feeling about whatever it was. Nausea began to rise within her as she wiped off the feather accessory's needle, as if she were already undergoing the effects of witnessing something horrid. That wasn't going to stop her, however. Someone she cared about was in trouble. She wouldn't let anything stop her from doing what she could in order to help.

Without a second thought, she inhaled deeply and jabbed herself with the point. She felt as though she might double over, but just like that, all feelings had vanished. She wasn't in the swamp anymore. She was somewhere darker... somewhere ominous... She took a moment to find her bearings before she began to observe.

The foresight took place in an old depository that looked like it hadn't been used in years. She had never been here before, and yet she somehow knew the exact location of the place. The building was dead silent, but ultimately took on a sense of dread that worsened with every passing second. She was given a first person point of view, and although she wasn't actually at the place, it sure made her _feel_ like she was creeping through the echoing walls of the warehouse. Cordelia had only experienced a vision like this once before when her mother dangled an old pendant, which belonged to her grandmother, around her neck, causing her to see herself and the other witches at the coven dead at the hands of the woman. With that in mind, as well as the unease she was already feeling, the witch knew that whatever she was about to see wouldn't be the least bit pleasant.

The sound of footsteps reverberated as she slowly maneuvered deeper within the confines of the barren facility. At a certain point, the metallic scent of fresh blood reached her nose, making her feel sick. It was then that she noticed something floating in the air... A thin, black object danced ominously above the ground. Upon closer inspection, the object revealed itself to be a feather. Taking a few steps forward, Cordelia's heart suddenly stopped when she saw the figure on the floor. Lying down before her within a peculiar circle of oil was Castiel. A strange, slender type of blade she had never seen before had pierced his heart. His body laid sprawled on the ground, his magnificent wings spread out beside him, broken. The sight was hard to handle, but she wouldn't and couldn't stop there. As if not truly in control of her feet, Cordelia continued onward.

The next body she saw was not a far distance from that of the angel's. Sam Winchester appeared before her, seeming to be slumped against a wall. The head of a blood-stained pike was clearly visible as it stuck out from the center of his chest. As she moved closer to him, she could see that his body wasn't actually touching the wall at all, for the pike which had impaled him stuck of the wall and extended a couple of feet. Though shocked, Cordelia had yet to be mortified, and whether or not she wanted to see it, she was aware that she had to know what was going on.

As if she had transmutated, in the blink of an eye, a sudden flash carried her a good distance away from Sam's body, only for her to see another. This one, or two, seemed to be the most out of place. Cordelia tried to gasp, but no sound left her mouth, which didn't even open in the first place. Staring up at her in astonishment was Zoe Benson. Though she bore slashes of varying depths on her face, it seemed that she must have met her fatal end upon nearly being cut in half, as could be assumed when observing the enormous stain of blood at her middle. Also at her middle, however, was evidence of a fourth casualty. The severed head of Kyle Spencer sat in the lap of the dead girl, eyes closed and neck still oozing fresh blood. There was no sign of the boy's body, but Cordelia practically felt better not knowing what had happened to it. Going on after this would be torturous, but the foresight hadn't ended. There was still more to see.

By now, Cordelia almost felt as though she were a ghost. She was so far into the vision that she didn't even seem to be aware of who she was anymore. At the same time, however, she was completely aware that she wasn't taking the place of another person. It was almost like she had become one with the omnipresent musty air... There was no need to worry about all this, though. What did exceed worrisome at a great length, however, was the two dead bodies that now lay at her feet. The clearly visible faces of Misty and Dean were shaped into expressions of agony, and judging by the condition of their bodies, it was safe to say the two had been tortured before they were unceremoniously dispatched. A portion of Misty's upper body lied over Dean's as blood leaked from the grisly, crimson smile on her neck where her throat had been slit. Her arm rested close to where the hunter's heart was. As was the case with Castiel, a knife had been inserted into Dean's core, but this one had been crudely jammed in place and twisted numerous times.

Cordelia couldn't believe what she was witnessing. Who would do such a thing like this? Who could possibly hold something against each and every one of these unfortunate souls? Her question was answered by a high-heeled boot that carelessly kicked Misty's body away from Dean's. As her vision moved upward, she thought her heart would cease. A living figure among the dead, the psychotic, familiar face of Madison Montgomery scanned over the two corpses, nothing but odium in her eyes. She was accompanied by a taller, dark-skinned man whom Cordelia had never met, but somehow knew the name of: Gordon Walker. Utterly satisfied with their heartless, vengeful deeds, the two gave each other ghastly smirks as the vision faded from the Supreme's eyes. It was then that she was finally overcome with negative feelings. Horror-stricken, Cordelia doubled over and quickly blacked out.

...

 _Hey handsome,_

 _So it turns out I met a friend of yours on the other side. Apparently, this guy really has it in for ya, and he says you don't deserve any happiness. As you probably noticed, we took the swamp rat off your hands. She needs to learn a thing or two about staying dead. If you're pathetic enough to want her back, you can find her at the address below. But seriously, who would want this stupid bitch back? Hah!_

 _Yours truly,_

 _Madison Montgomery_

The signed name was written as a barely legible signature, with the address of an abandoned depository scrawled out beneath it. Once read by the trio, Dean copied the address onto a small slip of paper. He preceded to furiously tear the note to bits. He couldn't help feeling like this entire incident was all his fault. He should have known that something like this was going to happen, if not only because of his presence. He should've left earlier. Maybe then she would still be back at the swamps, safe and sound...

He didn't speak at all as the Impala powered down the streets. Neither Sam nor Castiel could get a word out of him. He already knew what to expect from them. Heading over to whatever place this Madison chick was directing him to would lead him head-on into a trap. He hadn't recovered one hundred percent just yet. He didn't even know if Misty was truly at the provided location. He had not a single clue who Madison was working with. To sum it all up, he wasn't making the right choice by doing any of this. That's what they would tell him. He didn't give a shit. This was the last damn time. He wouldn't have any more blood on his hands. Not after Kevin. Not after Jo. Not after any of them. Misty's name would never be engraved onto his list of regrets.

After a while, Castiel had disappeared, leaving the Winchester brothers on their own. Dean was stubborn to say the least, and Sam acknowledged the fact that practically nothing he said would reach his older brother. Yet, given that the two spent hour after hour with each other on almost a daily basis—to the point that numerous clients had mistaken the two for a homosexual couple—it wasn't hard for Sam to figure something out. Something he knew was true in spite of never slipping from his brother's mouth. Without looking up from the map they were using to find their destination, he spoke suddenly.

"You love her, don't you?"

No response.

"Dean, you can't keep this up forever. Do you love her?"

The hunter's restless eyes remained glued to the road ahead. "You mean like you loved Jessica? And Amelia?" He could see his brother fidgeting within his peripheral vision. "As a matter of fact, yes, Sammy. I do love her." The car swerved slightly as he turned onto a highway. "But none of that really matters now, does it? For all we know, she's probably dead right now."

"You don't know that, Dean."

"Well, I think we both have an idea by now," he snapped, directly facing his brother for the first time since they had been reunited. "I mean, think about it. This is why we can't do long-term relationships. No one lasts around the two of us. Hell, the one time I got to experience an apple-pie life, it all ended in shambles. Now, that woman doesn't have a damn clue about who I am, or what I've done for her and her son."

Sam looked down into his lap. Nothing his brother said was the least bit inaccurate. "Well... At least she isn't dead..."

"That's not the point." Dean took a hand off the wheel momentarily to wipe at his face. "There's no rest for us, Sammy. And that means there's no goddamn rest for anyone around us. Especially the ones we care about. Now, we're going to go to whatever this place is, and we're going to kick some ass the best we can, but I'm not expecting a happy-ever-after for me and Misty. I doubt you are either."

Sam didn't respond again. Dean was right. Happy endings were a rarity for the Winchesters. The two rode together in silence for the rest of the way. There was nothing else to discuss. Not anymore.

...

"Whoa whoa, slow down, Cordelia!"

The Supreme had blown through the academy entrance in a gust of snafu. She chattered distraughtly about something terrible that had occurred. Neither Zoe nor Kyle could understand a single thing she said, though they each seemed to make out the name "Misty" in her jumble of words.

Finally cutting her off, Zoe interjected, "Cordelia! What happened? Is Misty in trouble?"

The woman took a few moments to catch her breath as she inhaled and exhaled deeply for a few moments. Finally, once enough air was obtained, "Not just Misty. We could all be in trouble. We could all end up dead!"

Hearing all the ruckus, a frantic Queenie entered the room. "Yo, what the hell is going on i- shit... Cordelia?" She hurried over to the witch, joining the other two as they tried to simultaneously comfort and coax information out of her.

"She saw something bad," Zoe explained somberly. "Something horribly bad. We're trying to figure out what's the mat-"

"Misty was taken!" the Supreme shouted without warning.

The two other females exchanged a glance. " _Seriously_? What happened to her being strong and all that?" Queenie questioned. "Besides, who the hell would _want_ to kidnap that poor flower child in the first place?"

"Madison Montgomery did it."

No one seemed to be at all surprised at the sound of the culprit's name except for one of them. "What!?" Kyle, who had been silent for the most part, suddenly shouted.

A suspicious Zoe shifted her gaze in his direction from Cordelia's. "What is up with you?" she started. "I get it. She was a horrid bitch and all that, but why do you get so excited whenever we mention her? If I didn't know any better I'd assume that you killed her..."

"I _did_ kill her!" He finally admitted. He received two astonished faces from the younger of the three females. "I strangled her because I was pissed about your death, Zoe! She promised me that you wouldn't get hurt!"

"None of that matters right now," Cordelia interrupted before any nonsensical drama could commence. "What matters is that Madison is back now, and she doesn't just have Misty, but she also has a man who she's working with. A man who goes by the name of Gordon Walker."

No one knew who that was, but they weren't surprised. Madison may have been skilled to an extent, but there was no way in hell she could successfully kidnap someone on her own. "Okay," Zoe said, returning to Cordelia. "What can we do to help?"

The witch violently shook her head. "Nothing. Nothing at all. Stay right here, because going there is exactly what they want you to do." She placed her quivering hands on Zoe's cheeks. "I-I saw you in the foresight... You were there at the warehouse with Kyle, and both of you were dead. I can't let that actually happen."

Zoe shook her head. "Cordelia, we aren't going to let you go alone. What you saw was something that _could_ happen, but that doesn't mean it _will_ happen for sure."

"Zoe, no you can't. I won't le-"

"Sorry, sister, but she's right. If you go, we all go." Queenie took a step forward. "After all, you didn't say you saw me or yourself dead in this foresight."

"But then-"

"You aren't going to win this argument." Finally, Kyle spoke up. "They aren't going to easily take down four of us. Besides, do you really want to risk losing Misty again?"

"No... No I definitely do not..." These were all good points. After all, she knew each of them were strong in their own ways. They'd fend for each other as well as themselves without an issue. Perhaps she could trust them in this situation even in spite of what she had seen.

Nodding reluctantly, she breathed, "Fine, we'll all go together. Just please take care of yourselves and show no mercy on these two villains."

It was enough for them. Remembering the address she had managed to pick up from her sights, Cordelia exited the facility with the three of them. Zoe set up the GPS in her car and, subsequently, they were one their way, similarly to the two men who had set out for the same location not a long time prior. Cordelia's previous assumption was true: Misty had a search party coming to her, and the members weren't going to let her fall into the hands of peril. Not ever again.


	9. The Reunion

Castiel was already there when the Impala parked itself at the side of the old rust bucket that was once used for storage of some irrelevant type of good. Even then, few words were spoken. What would be the point of discussing anything about this in the first place? All three of them were fully aware of the fact that they were walking straight into a trap. Any hope of retrieving Misty from this Madison bitch and whoever her friend was would probably be riding on the wings of luck. If anything, the primary purpose of this mission was to do what they always did: kick evil right in the ass.

The other two weren't at all surprised when Dean strayed ahead a few feet and decided to lead the way without any sort of prior declaration. With little force, the hunter pushed at the corroded door, which shrilly creaked open. Continuing onward, the guns he and his brother held seemed to be mere methods they were using to keep themselves feeling more secure rather than legitimate tools of defense. As the door swung closed behind the two men and the accompanying angel, black darkness shrouded their vision.

The place withheld a wonted, unassuming silence, but the trio stayed cautious. They had been led here for a reason. Whoever these people were, they had to be making stealthy attempts in the quiet shadows... wait, never mind. The darkness soon morphed into the dim when a flickering light came on. A light that resulted from burning flames. The burning flames had encircled Castiel, the first of the three to become trapped. He had unknowingly stumbled into a carefully placed angel trap. Whoever these people were, they really knew their stuff.

Next, the sound of rattling chains followed by a harsh yelp and a thud could be heard from behind Dean. From out of the blue, as if they had minds of their own, two metal chains tied to a few of the sturdier-looking pipes extended outward and bound Sam's legs. They preceded to yank the man off his feet and forcefully drag him backwards. The binds grew stronger and tighter until it became practically impossible for the younger Winchester brother to break free.

"Sammy!" Dean hollered. He had seen all of this coming, but he didn't expect it all to happen so quickly! Moments later, a large, dull light from above flickered on. Dean's gun clattered to the floor as a sudden pressure seemed to immobilize him. As he gazed forward, he saw that a fourth person had accompanied them. She was a young woman who looked to be a couple of years past adolescence. Like Misty, her hair was blonde, but it fell in a straight curtain on either side of her head, and instead of looking completely natural, it appeared that she had used a lot of product to get it to look so flawless. Black seemed to be her color to the point that she would appear as a floating head if the lights were dimmer. She wore a thick, black choker around her neck, an expensive looking black dress, and her black, high heeled boots clomped on the hard floor as she slowly stepped forward.

"I guess this is when I'm supposed to say 'Winchesters', right?" Her tone was thick with ugly sarcasm. "But, then again, rules are meant to be broken. Just like that swamp bitch you were screwing."

"What the hell have you done to her!?" Dean growled viciously as the woman came closer to him.

She smirked. "Funny you should ask. See for yourself."

Another light flickered on and, sure enough, there she was. Chained to a metal structure that stood in the middle of the room was Misty Day. Her wrists were bound by iron manacles attached to the structure. Messy, blonde hair covered her face as her neck leaned forward, concealing her closed, unconscious eyes. The sight of her so vulnerable and broken tore at Dean on the inside. Suddenly freed of whatever had been gripping him, he darted forward, fully intending on killing the girl who stood in front of him, but with a fast glance in the other direction, she had him frozen again. This time, however, it wasn't an unseen force. It was five strong human men all working to immobilize him in one large group grasp. Mind control. This woman was a witch as well.

Now just a few feet away from him, she shook her head and snickered. "Oh Dean, I had a feeling you wouldn't be able to resist me. Maybe you'll finally make the right choice and drop the dirty hippie. I'm sure she's nowhere as fun in bed as I am..."

Dean looked away in disgust. "I hate to tell you this, sister, but I don't do rich bitches, or whatever the hell you are."

She stopped in her tracks. "Really? You _really_ don't know who I am?"

The man shook his head.

"You didn't expect to see my face when you received the signature?"

A look of confusion.

It was like he had sinned insufferably by not knowing who she was. "My God, there really _is_ something wrong with you!" she spat. Obnoxiously tossing her hair, she continued, "Whatever. I don't mind introducing myself to the uncultured. I'm Madison Montgomery. Actress, movie star, and witch who should've been the Supreme instead of that beastly Cordelia bitch."

Sam and Cas exchanged a glance at the mentioning of Miss Robichaux's head mistress. There was some sort of linkage here, wasn't there? Thinking back to something Cordelia had explained to him during their first interaction, Sam's eyes widened as he put the pieces together. To become the Supreme, witches had to pass the test known as the Seven Wonders. Other than Misty, he knew that two previous witches who had taken the trials were Zoe and Queenie, but Cordelia had mentioned a fourth witch who had also taken them alongside the other three. If her words weren't proof enough, then her similarities in age with the other girls, as well as their mutual acquaintance with Cordelia Goode, were enough to suggest that she was this unspecified fourth sorceress.

Still, the revelation was like a blow from a cinderblock. "So you're the witch Cordelia was talking about? One of the four to take the trials?"

Without warning, his head forcefully jerked backwards. Telekinesis. For a split second, everyone was terrified that his neck might have broken, but instead, his head banged against one of the pipes behind him. "Was anyone talking to you, tree?" No mortal injuries were received, but Dean was still given quite a start.

"Hey, don't you dare try that shit on my brother!" he growled threateningly.

The witch wasn't at all intimidated. If anything, she was further amused. "Would you look at that? Brotherly love." She strutted closer to the hunter. "Away with you," she muttered to the other men, who broke away from Dean without hesitation as if she had transformed them into robot servants. Still, he couldn't move his limbs even the slightest bit. He felt as though part of her conscience was invading his own and forcing him to stand still. "Do you care about your brother, Dean?" she interrogated, as if she didn't know the answer.

He sneered acerbically. "I wonder what gave it away."

"And the bird brain over there?" She pointed a polished nail in Castiel's direction. "You care about him too?"

Castiel appeared to be more disappointed than insulted. "Just because I have wings does not mean that I share any sort of relation to avians, so to use that sort of insult is highly-"

"My God, don't any of you know when to shut the hell up?!" she whined. She faced Dean for a moment before spontaneously transmutating several feet away so she stood beside Misty. "I already know you care about this piece of shit." With a single, harsh slap to the cheek, the other woman was awakened. Having no recollection of where she was, she found herself disoriented for a few moments until she turned her head. The blurry image of a familiar face delineated itself into greater detail along with the other bleak surroundings within the unfamiliar area. Dean could visibly observe some of the color draining from her cheeks as she recognized who she was looking at.

"M...Maddy?" she said quietly as her full consciousness began to kick in. The smirk on her fellow witch's face was enough to hint that she was up to no good, and considering the history the two had shared, it was enough to quickly light a fire inside Misty. "What are you doing here?!" she snapped. Oh, how she wanted to just strangle her right then and there, but she couldn't. A rattling behind her informed her that her hands were chained behind her, and failed attempts to free herself notified her that the shackles were made of iron; a metal that kept witches from properly and successfully using their powers.

"Wakey wakey, stupid bitch," Madison scoffed before teleporting back to the spot she had been previously. Misty's focus followed her, giving her a first glimpse at the one who she would normally be enthralled to see. This time, however, her joy was combined with sadness as she realized that both of them were only here to suffer. The thought made her throat seize up, and it became hard for her to speak.

"You know," Madison went on, staring intently at a far off wall, "I cared about someone too. Hell, I _loved_ him, and I thought he loved me." Dean rolled his eyes. Did he really need to hear a sob story from this prissy little Hollywood chick? "But he loved someone else." Apparently so. "He loved the wrong girl. So, since it was only natural to do such a thing, I tried to inform him of that. I tried to make him see that I loved him, and that he was supposed to love _me_." She dramatically stared straight into Dean's eyes. "And what does he do? _Strangle_ me! Strangle me to death!" She had a sharpness to her voice that worsened the further she progressed through her account. "He let me disappear into that dark place because he still loved her, and that made all the reason for him to treat me like trash. It made me realize that maybe... caring and loving... is unnecessary. It's all a ton of drama made to distract us from helping ourselves and... taking care of business."

An unanticipated simper formed on her made-up face. "Of course, I had to mysteriously wind up in Purgatory for that to happen, but had that not happened, I would've never met one of your buddies. Apparently you have quite the history..."

Dean heard Castiel shout out his name before a whack was delivered to the back of his skull. Misty cried out as he hit the floor, groaning and rubbing his head. When he turned back to his attacker, a tall, familiar black man stood over him. He was visibly frenetic, and when he smiled, grotesque-looking fangs bared in the hunter's direction.

He could only feel certain shock, and it was no wonder his little brother was speechless; he must've been utterly and unpleasantly surprised to see this jerk. "Gordon?" He mumbled through the pain.

"Good to see you again, Dean Winchester," he replied in an unstable tone that was beautifully embellished with hate.

"What are you doing back here? I could've sworn Sammy sawed that cuckoo coconut you call a head right off your neck."

The former hunter snickered. "Oh please, brother, I have no doubt that you know better than that. Once I found Madison over there it wasn't too hard to make a comeback. All I really needed to do was tell her where the portal back to Earth was, and of course the location of my remains, and voilà!" He kicked the other man in the ribs, prompting him to grunt in agony. "I'm standing right here in front of you."

"So what, you're the witch's bitch now?" Dean quipped as he clutched the side of his torso. "That seems a bit unlike you. I remember a certain psycho son of a bitch saying he killed his own sister because she went vamp?"

"You aren't the one to talk, Dean," Gordon remarked. "What, you and your own witchy girlfriend? Not to mention that heavenly companion of yours over there." He shot a look back at Castiel. "It's a good thing I know how to trap those things. I didn't even need to use a lighter. Madison can use pyrokinesis."

"You better be a good boy, Dean," the movie star taunted, still standing in the same spot. "I might just light your clothes on fire if you don't behave."

"Oh please, ya weakling. All you have to fall back on are yer powers. You ain't got nothin' else." The Cajun woman spoke up for the first time since she had been ambushed.

Madison turned around and glared at her anathema with her hazel eyes. "You know what, Misty? It's just like you to come back from Hell. You never know how to stay dead." She threw her hand forward, causing the other witch to slam her head against the pillar she was chained to. "It did take a bit of convincing before I got Gordon to agree to help me get rid of those bitches back at the academy before we moved onto the Winchesters." (In truth, she lied to Gordon, saying he wouldn't find the two brothers without her and that she possessed the power of divination—the power she couldn't use that caused her to fail The Seven Wonders—which she could use to locate them if he first helped with her own targets. She had been planning to leave him to his own devices afterwards, but he didn't need to know that now.) "Boy, what a streak of luck it was to see them there of all places." She had slowly stalked forward until she was a mere few inches away from Misty. "And, what an unpleasant surprise it was to see your fugly face again."

"We figured," Gordon began, keeping watch on Dean for a little longer, "that we could kill two birds with one stone. It took some time of watching you guys and figuring out a plan, but-"

"You two psychopaths were stalking us!?" Dean interjected, only to receive another kick from Gordon.

"We put two and two together and came up with the perfect idea."

"It all makes perfect sense, you see," Madison took over. "We kidnap you, swamp rat, and then since you and Dean are sweethearts, he'd come to the rescue."

"AndGod forbid he come alone," Gordon pointed out, beginning to stray away from Dean as Madison immobilized him. "Of course Sam would make it his business to make sure his last remaining family member doesn't get killed like the monster he is." Sam attempted to lunge forward and start for Gordon, but was drawn back by his shackles. "We also took note of the new, winged ally and made the preparations. It wasn't hard to figure out he'd come with you guys, so we'll take care of him as well. Besides, all of you are monsters anyway, so it'll do the world some good to wipe you out." He drew out a long, double-bladed sheath which Dean immediately recognized as an angel blade. They were going to kill everyone. All four of them. He grit his teeth, wishing he could just get his hands around his enemy's neck.

"And, once the news gets out that Mother Nature's love-child is in trouble, it's only natural that the Supreme bitch will be on her way to the rescue, and you can bet all her right hands will be by her side." Madison flipped her hair again. "Of course these things take some time and I'm pretty good at multitasking, so fighting for myself while using brain slaves with a vampire on my side is really all I need when the rest of the party gets here. But, in the meantime, might as well get started on our own, shall we? Besides, I'm sick of seeing you alive." She stepped out of the way as Gordon approached the woman, blade in hand. "Do it."

Dean tried to pick himself off the floor. He wanted to stop them so bad, but the amount of time it would take him to reach the two villains wouldn't be enough. Misty would be dead by then. He watched as the vampire held the blade out, ready to plunge it into her neck when, all of a sudden, he stopped moving. It was only for a moment, and then he was preparing to strike again, but he was eyeing a new target now: Madison Montgomery.

Confused, and rather startled, she got out of his way, causing him to keep going and spontaneously collapse to the floor at the point where he would have stabbed her. Why would he do that? Was he crazy?

"So how's Hollywood going for you, Madison?" The blonde witch briskly became irate at the sound of a new voice. Gordon hadn't attempted to murder her on his own. As she had been doing with random men she found on the street, Zoe Benson had demonstrated the power of Concilium, known informally as mind control, on the vampire. They were here, and they were ready to fight.

"Well, it sure looks like the party is starting now, huh?" Reunited for the first time since Zoe accidentally impaled herself on a fence during the Seven Wonders Transmutation trial, the only reason Madison looked pleased was because of her ego telling her that she'd serve this girl a permanent ending. "How predictable it was that you'd be the one Cordelia would bring back with Vitalum Vitalis." She scoffed. "I guess your boyfriend over there forgot to mention that the life energy she used to bring you back in the first place was taken from me."

She stepped forward until she could see Kyle Spencer standing behind Zoe with the others. "You know, I'm the actress here. There's no need for you bitches to be all dramatic and act like I shouldn't be able to see you."

"Oh we know you can see us, girl," Queenie butted in. "Maybe we just don't want to see your ugly-ass face."

The face Queenie spoke of shaped into an expression of offense as the larger witch slapped herself in the face. "My God, Queenie! I should've expected you'd still be as rude as you are a fatass," Madison retaliated, distracted just the right amount of time for the rattling of loose chains to be heard. A loud thud served as a sign that Zoe's telekinesis hadn't failed, and that she had successfully freed Misty of her iron binds. She turned around momentarily to see the gypsy woman slowly getting to her feet. These girls were serious. They weren't going to take any of her shit.

Staying calm, she nonchalantly remarked, "Well that isn't right. If we're going to do this, it might as well be a fair game, right? Not that it was to start out anyway." She turned to the vampire for a second, who had been watching and waiting for the right moment to do something. "We should fix that, shouldn't we, Gordon?"

The vampire, still managing to hold back his instinct to draw blood, responded with a ghastly smile. "Why, yes. Yes we should." As Madison shifted her focus away from Dean, she lifted Queenie off her feet and forced her back, letting her crash into a wall with just enough force to leave the witch dazed for a few moments. What really caused a commotion, however, was not initially the center of attention, but after it had occurred, it caught everyone's eyes. In the midst of regrouping, Misty was unable to prepare herself by the time Gordon had reached her. Only Dean witnessed the blade slip into the tender flesh of her neck. Wine-colored blood left with the blade as the hostage crumpled to the ground beneath her. Within a short span of time, the life had faded from her eyes. She was dead.

Dean felt as though he had died too. The sounds of Madison cackling as she moved on fell on his deaf ears as he started for Misty, only to be kicked aside by Gordon, who bent down just to deliver a blow. The things he wanted to do to this man he could not. He was damaged, physically and emotionally. Things like this had happened countless times in his life, but somehow, this time, for a moment, he felt as though he actually wanted Gordon to kill him as well. Maybe then he'd have a chance at happiness. Maybe he could find Misty on the other side... But when he looked back to the spot where she had lied dead, he noticed something was missing... _She_ was missing...

Madison, on the other hand, was too distracted to celebrate the death of her enemy. She wanted Zoe to suffer the way she had suffered: she wanted her heartbroken before she died. Recalling how Kyle had put her to death through strangulation, she used telekinesis to seize up his throat while she thrusted Zoe against the same wall where Queenie was beginning to pick herself up off the ground. Sadistic satisfaction in her eyes, she howled maniacally as Kyle's hands frantically grappled his own neck. It seemed another life would be lost at the hands of the two partners in crime before the light blinded them all.

Fire was bursting through Madison's skull as a hand yanked her head backwards with so much force that she thought her neck may snap. She was so focused on terminating her main target that she hadn't even bothered to take notice of the whereabouts of Cordelia Goode. With this in mind, it was surmisable that she had no recollection of the Supreme's mutual ability to use pyrokinesis, and the same way in which Madison started the fire to trap Castiel, Cordelia extinguished it to free him. Being referred to as a "bird brain" was the least of the angel's worries as he pulsed with significant strength, burning into the witch's very soul. This time, he wanted to make sure she wouldn't come back, and didn't seem to let up at all, even when her attractive features burned into a charred, grotesque mess. Once the divine light faded away, Madison Montgomery was replaced with a smoldering corpse that fell from Castiel's palm. It was safe to say that her role on the Earth had come to a final end.

Cordelia sighed heavily in relief. Madison was finally gone for good, and that meant no one else would be in danger because of her. As if to double check, she glanced at a frantic Zoe, who had already gotten to her feet and was at Kyle's side, making completely sure that the man was okay and not injured too severely. Queenie was also standing again, using mind control on the same men Madison had been, only she was directing them out the door rather than using them as, essentially, weapons and temporary restraints. Speaking of restraints...

"Dean!" Sam, who was still halfway through tarnishing his shackles, howled a warning as the remaining monster struck downwards with a blade, nearly piercing a hole in the older Winchester brother. He had been so dumbfounded by the unnoticed vanishing of Misty Day's body. It was like she had turned into ashes again and blown away in the wind... It left him off his game for just the right amount of time for Gordon to jump out of the shadows and prepare an attack.

Although the blade missed the first time, Gordon managed to pin his enemy to the ground by stomping his feet down on his arms. He held the blade high over his head, ready to strike a fatal wound in the hunter. "This is it, Dean. If I can't take all of you, I'll be more than happy to send you alone down to Purgatory where you belong, you monster." And with that said, the blade came down. The other witches, Sam, whom Cordelia had freed, or even Castiel would have come to the rescue if they didn't see it coming.

One thing that both Madison and Gordon had done wrong was underestimate the vitality of Misty's gift. Although they were fully aware that she could bring anything back to life, it had slipped past them that anything included herself. The occurrence of such an oversight ended up being the reason Gordon learned something then that Madison had learned a long time ago: Misty was brutal when it came to fist-fights, even against a vampire.

A sudden blow to the groin and the blade Gordon held clattered to the floor beside Dean. A sturdy elbow to the spine and Gordon was on the floor next to it. Bewilderment hit Dean like a tidal wave as Misty Day made an appearance. There was no indication that she had ever even been harmed. A splash of her medicinal mud—she always had a vial of it in handy everywhere she went—concealed the once fatal wound Gordon had inflicted on her. When she told him she was prepared, she hadn't been lying.

For a moment, everyone stopped and simply watched as Misty mauled the vampire. She began to hit him profusely, pure rage written all over her face. Vampires may have had brawniness that surpassed that of humans, but Gordon was far too stupefied about Misty's return to make any attempts to throw her off of himself. As a result, Misty's fists pounded into his face. She hit him, and hit him, and hit him, and hit him, never seeming to let up. Her knuckles bashed deep into his skull, knocking out teeth and eventually even some of his jagged fangs. It was like she had entered some sort of violent void, and there was no hope in bringing her out of it. She hated this monster. She hated him, and she hated Madison. They tried to hurt her, they tried to hurt her friends, they tried to hurt the one she loved. She wouldn't be satisfied until both of them were rotting in the deepest pit of the inferno that underlaid the earth.

"Misty." A nudge to the side and Dean's handsome face broke her out of her dark conscience. His green eyes fixated on her, letting her know that everything was just fine. He was here, and he was alive. And he loved her. He didn't need to tell her that for her to know.

In his hand was the same blade that Gordon had stabbed her and attempted to stab Dean with. After properly instructing her on how to kill a vampire since, as she half-expected, wooden stakes weren't the key, she was ready to put a final end to all of this. Bringing the blade down to Gordon's neck, Misty sawed away until she heard the sound of bones snapping. With just the right amount of force, she successfully decapitated the former hunter, thus eliminating the second of the two horrid beings that had conjured up all this turmoil. It was over. All done. A few salty tears in her blue eyes, she turned to Dean and leaned forward until his arms caught her. She nestled her head where she could feel the warmth of his body, where she could hear his heart beating. And, at that moment, she knew that on this vast, blue and green planet they called home, she would never be safer anywhere else than she was within his gentle, loving embrace.


	10. In the Palm of His Hand

As the golden sun sank lower and lower in the sky, brilliant shades of blue morphed into vibrant orange hues streaked with pastel pink as the evening commenced. An end to the hectic day that had occurred was just around the corner. Shadows of trees and fences extended sneakily across the front lawn of Miss Robichaux's Academy. Birds who would soon resign for the night sang their last few melodies, completely ignorant to the solicitous lecture that Misty Day was receiving from her dear friend and mentor, Ms. Cordelia Goode, which took place on the facility's grand porch.

"From now on, if you are to live on your own, we must be in better contact with each other," the Supreme explained, both hands clamping the younger witch's shoulders. "Either I'll visit your shack, or you'll spend a day here, but in short, I need to be able to keep track of you the way I do all my girls. Am I making myself clear to you, Misty?"

The sorceress nodded as her eyes hung down to the polished, white floor. "Yes, Ms. Cordelia. Of course." She suddenly made eye contact. "I jus' really appreciate you givin' me a secon' chance. I promise you this time that nothin' bad'll happ'n."

"You don't know that for sure, Misty," Cordelia responded firmly, but calmly, "And that's why we'll be more aware of each other's whereabouts from now on." She took a glance at the three men who stood on the porch with them, studying one in particular. "As for them, well... I'll let you work that out."

Turning away from her fellow witch, she approached the three hunters, looking more grateful than words could ever explain. "I haven't thanked you men properly yet. I know we had a bit of a rough start, but without you guys, well... she wouldn't even be here. She'd still be down there, in Hell. God only knows they'd be in trouble too." She turned to look through a window, where Zoe and Kyle were tending to Queenie, whose back had been sparingly injured in the brawl that had embarked earlier.

Sam smiled sincerely. "It's the least we could do, Ms. Supreme."

"I recall granting you permission to address me as Cordelia."

"Right." The tall man blushed a little.

Cordelia took in a deep breath. "Really, I would've never thought I'd be on good terms with any hunters ever."

Dean chuckled a little. "Yeah, you'd be surprised, but not all of us are bad son of bitches."

Cordelia shook her head dismissively. "Oh no, this doesn't change anything. I'm still against hunters." Dean's smile faded in embarrassment, prompting the Supreme to grin. "Don't worry, though. You fine men are exceptions." She turned to face the shorter of the three males, who still managed to be a good number of inches taller than her. "After all, you do have an angel on your side."

Castiel's face lit up, as though he felt a childish pride in himself for being positively acknowledged. The two brothers looked to him and back to the witch. "Yeah, he can be a pain in the ass, but he's practically family," Dean stated as his brother gave the angel a pat on the shoulder.

Cordelia presented them with a concluding nod. "Well, I should probably get everything back under control now. Please, take care of yourselves. I have a feeling I'll be seeing you all in the future at some point... You want me to confirm that right now? I know how to use Divination!" she offered jokingly, conjuring laughter from the men. "But until then, I wish you all the best of luck in your future endeavors. Good bye for now." Without another word directed to the hunters, the Supreme hugged Misty good bye before disappearing through the grand entrance of the academy.

The last remaining female on the porch was the next one to turn to the men. Smiling sheepishly, she said, "Okay. Now that that's all settled, who's takin' me home?"

...

Dean couldn't remember the last time he had been in the backseat of his 1967 Impala. Of course, he wouldn't have been able to even if he tried since, technically, he had been dead the last time, but before that, he must've only been a kid. However, spending time worrying about that wasn't an option, especially since he had chosen to sit back there. After all, he couldn't do what he was at that moment if his hands were on the wheel and eyes glued to the road ahead.

As Sam sat before the wheel with Castiel, who had decided to join them for the ride, in the passenger seat beside him, Dean ran the fingers of his left hand through the soft, blonde waves of Misty's hair as the witch rested her head on his lap. The fingers of his other hand interlocked with hers. Every few minutes, the young woman would squeeze his palm slightly, as if to make sure he were still there, holding onto her, and she hoped it would last for ever. She hoped he would never let go of her hand, even if her home wasn't too far off now. Her happy place was wherever he was, even if it was in the backseat of a somewhat unfamiliar car. Of course, in time, if their plans did work out, she'd get to know the same vehicle that they had grown up in. If anything, she had taken notice of the toy soldier jammed into one of the ashtrays...

Other than occasional directions given by Misty as Sam scouted for the correct place to stop, the ride was silent, but this silence was in no way similar to the silence of the first ride of the day. While the quiet atmosphere of the first trip was lined by the anxious sting of tensions, the end of the harsh realm instigated peace and tranquillity this time around. Without unwelcome relations to the prior events of the day climbing on their shoulders, no one felt the need to worry and basked in the positive side of things.

What was truly wonderful, of course, was that both Dean and Misty had returned to their happy places. Against a number of odds, the two were alive and well, and they were given a second chance to continue their relationship. This time, they wouldn't take shit from anyone else. Although Dean did have a number of troublesome figures to deal with and Misty didn't, he would fight harder and stay stronger because now, he had someone to live for who he could love the way he had only been given the opportunity to do a few times. Misty, too, would protect herself. She would continue to be mentored by Cordelia and transform herself into the most powerful witch she could be. No one would be able to screw with her ever again. Not when she had friends and a lover who cared about her and whom she held dear.

Perhaps, in their own ways, they both had their own personal tunnels, and the lights at the end were too far away to see. However, hand in hand, the darkness wasn't so intimidating. Face to face, they would look anything in the eye and overcome. Heart to heart, they were together, and even with all the obstacles they may face later on, no force in the universe could put an end to the bond they developed. This was how it would be from now on, and they had no plans to change anything.

...

In spite of Misty's invite, Dean did not enter through the wooden door of the shack. If he did, he may never leave, and that would definitely not be fair to his brother, Cas, or anyone else in the world. Of course, as he expected, she completely understood. For what appeared to be the very first time in her life, she knew for certain that someone she had met would not be gone forever. He would not be abandoning her. He didn't even need to try to make that remotely clear for her to perceive.

As the night birds began to hop out of their settlements in the tall trees, and the frogs croaked by the muddy shores of the bayous, Dean stood before the witch's door, a pink-cheeked, toothy grin on his face; a masculine equivalent to the expression Misty held on her face. "So next time I see you, you'll be in Kansas, right?" he nudged her slightly. "You didn't think I'd forget about that invitation, did you?" She appeared to draw back a little, only as a manner to be polite. "Oh no, Dean, ya don't have to do that for me, there can be oth'r ways."

"There are hardly any other ways, Misty," he began immediately after she had finished, "And none of them would be as easy as this. Besides, I insist." He drew his hand forward and placed it on her shoulder, directly over the handprint that Castiel had left on her.

Although she wouldn't show it, she wanted nothing more than to venture out to the bunker with him right then and there. She didn't want to split up, even if they weren't parting ways forever. This was the first real time she had found love, and she had little desire to fight obstacles in order to be with the man she felt for. However, if this was the cost to be with him, then putting up with the hassle of a long-distance relationship was a minute price to pay.

Without a second thought, her head quickly bobbed up and down a few times. "Well, in that case, there ain't nothin' else I'd be happier doin'. Anythin' to spend even a little bit of time with ya, Dean." A short silence fell over them after she spoke. They both seemed to have the same intentions to just allow this final moment to live. They wanted this time to linger in the air for a little while. Neither of them were in any particular rush, so what would be the reason not to?

After about a minute of just letting her gaze wander and occasionally drown in the deep, green seas that were the eyes of the tall hunter, Misty spoke up. "It's been great, Dean. It really has. I don't ev'n know what to thank ya for first!"

He snickered. "Hey, we've been over this! Don't forget that you were the one who brought me back to life, sweetheart."

"I know, I just... Well I uh..." Unable to contain her feelings any longer, she lunged forward, both arms wrapping around Dean's shoulders and dragging herself into him. His returning embrace was practically an automatic response. She wanted to feel his heart thumping against her own. She wanted to be held again. She wanted to feel as though she were lying down in the palm of his hand so she wouldn't forget such a blissful feeling before they met again. "I'm gonna miss ya," she whispered to him.

One of his hands rubbed her back in a soothing manner. "I know," he spoke. "But hey, don't forget that this isn't over. We'll be seeing each other as soon as we can."

She accepted his request as she drew herself away. They stood quietly again before Dean pointed to the open path in the trees behind them. "Well, I should probably head back, now. It's a long drive home from New Orleans."

"Wait!" Like an unexpected flare, the thought burst within her brain at the very last minute. Dashing through the wooden door, she rummaged through a small crate until she found the object that correctly matched what she had visualized. The perfect little gift... When she returned to him, she held a small cassette tape in her grasp. It was a mixtape; Dean determined this when he picked out no corresponding artwork or handwritten title scrawled above the neatly penciled tracklist. "Before ya go, I think ya need to take this with ya..."

Half-smiling, Dean reached out and accepted the tape, handling it as if it were a delicate, turquoise robin's egg. He looked it over briefly, only to be told not to. " _It's a surprise_ ," she said of the mixtape's tracklist. He would have to wait and play the recording inside his Impala. She wouldn't be able to view his reaction, but she knew that it was best for the surprise to be played out in this particular fashion.

Now eager to listen to the present, Dean thanked Misty before leaning in one last time. His lips met hers as they reenacted that first night, when he had kissed her extemporaneously, when the embers in her middle first were ignited, when the light bulb that everyone strives to activate flickered on for both of them as they realized that they were in love. He wanted to taste her again. Those sweet, pleasurable lips that he would miss until their next meeting. As he pulled away, he muttered a final phrase whose response came naturally.

"Good bye for now, Misty Day."

"Good bye for now, Dean Winchester."

...

Time had flown by once Dean returned to the night-black car he parked in a lot closest to Misty's residence. Yet, when he switched places with Sam and plopped himself in the driver's seat, there was no "What took you so long?" or "What was the hold up?" from his brother or the accompanying angel. Instead, prideful grins were plastered to their faces as they waited for the man to speak, like children about to receive a new toy on their birthdays. Instead, all Dean muttered was "The hell you two staring at?" before he started his car. However, the car did not pull out until about a minute later.

He had not read the tracklist, and yet the music that played when he inserted the cassette into the car's tape player didn't leave him very shocked. That did not mean he felt any less joyful when Fleetwood Mac's "Everywhere" began to play through the speakers. A quizzical look from Sam, who was not used to listening to this band with his brother, was met by a confirmation from the other man that this music meant something special to him now. Now, whenever he listened to it, she would be there in his mind, adorned in earthy jewelry and crocheted cardigans and lace shawls, twirling effortlessly to the music like a whimsical ballerina. Warm memories were sewn so tenderly to the music, and every time the songs played, he would remember their good times together. That was what she had wanted, and so was the reason to give him the mixtape they had listened to with each other. His happiness only crescendoed with the music as the engine roared and the car blasted down the road on its voyage back to Kansas.

All he could think of was how he couldn't wait to hold her again. She, his white-winged dove. The beautiful soul that lightened his own. The one who felt safest when she was tucked away within his embrace.

She, the woman he truly loved.


End file.
